


Style

by EchoGarrote



Category: The Outer Worlds (Video Game)
Genre: Fix-It
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-12-09
Updated: 2020-03-04
Packaged: 2021-02-26 07:15:43
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 25,344
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21729670
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/EchoGarrote/pseuds/EchoGarrote
Summary: A small change of schedules and priorities result in a different outcome for one of Byzantium's citizens.
Comments: 15
Kudos: 39





	1. Chapter 1

“I must have that lapel. Otherwise it just won’t be a Jolicoeur Original.” The designer said. “What would you call a mantiqueen without a head-frond, or a primal without its fangs?”

“Fine.” The Captain sighed. “Where can I pick it up?”

“HPS, the slackwits there are waiting for a signature so they can agree that its there. Ugh, bureaucracy is insufferable.” Celeste said.

“That it is.” The Captain shook their head. “Alright, that’s just down the road. Felix and I can go get it. In the meantime, Parvati?”

“Yes?” The mechanic asked, looking up from the cases of finery that she was looking at.

The Captain rolled their eyes. This was the third time they were in the store but the engineer didn’t seem to be capable of asking herself. So, maybe she needed a little prod. At this point, it felt like the Captain was banging two romantic rocks together. After all they had done, if Parvati didn’t get together with Junlei, they would set something on fire. Maybe half of Byzantium.

“Isn’t there something you’d like to ask Miss Jolicoeur for?” The Captain gestured a ‘go ahead’ motion. 

“Well, umm…Ma’am. I was uhh…wondering if…you could make me a…dress?” Parvati asked.

“My dear, people pound my door down asking that question. I would be delighted. What for? Is this something proud and exhibitionist? Or cool and supplementary?” 

“I…well..umm, I want to…you see, uhh Captain maybe this wasn’t such a great id-“ Parvati turned to look at the Captain.

“She wants to wear it to impress a date.” The Captain said.

“Captain!” Parvati said. “You don’t have to say it like that.”

“A date! Wonderful. Haven’t done one of those in ages, usually the contracts are already all written up.” Celeste said as she gave Parvati a look. “Hmm, she took up a small pad of paper and scratched out some numbers. “Time, materials, labor…I believe this is shall be sufficient.” She tore off the paper and held it out to Parvati.

Before she could take it, the Captain plucked the paper out of Celeste’s hand. Their eyes slightly bulged for a second, and then they shrugged and held out his bit cartridge. “Fine.” Celeste happily took the cartridge and went to her register.

“Captain,” Parvati said. “If it’s too much, I don’t have to get it.”

“It’s fine.” The Captain said. “You don’t carry that much on you, I know you keep your big cartridge back on the ship. I’ll deduct it from your share when we do the next split.”

“That’s what you said about the casserole. Last split after that, I got as much as the Vicar.” Parvati said.

“The Vicar just talks, and occasionally shoots things. You shoot things and fix the ship.” The Captain said. “You get a bigger cut, so does Ellie because she’s always patching us up after our adventures. You’d think she never complains about the split just out of the goodness of her heart? It’s fine, Parvati.”  
“Alright, if you say so Captain.” Parvati said.

“Here you are.” Celeste said, returning with the bit cartridge. Handing it to the Captain, she turned to Parvati with a data pad and started inputting numbers. “Just let me finish taking measurements, and we’ll get the machines up and sewing right away. You’ll have your dress in an hour.”

“Perfect. Why don’t you stay here and get it fitted, Parvati. In the meantime, Felix and I can go get that lapel.” The Captain said. “Come on, Felix. Felix, wake up!”

Felix, who had been leaning against a wall dozing, woke up with a small jolt at the Captain’s raised voice. “Uhh, yeah! Right away Boss, wherever you want, right?”

“Come on. If we’re lucky, I’ll let you blow up the mailroom.” The Captain groaned as he left the store and headed to parcel hell.

The minutes passed and the fabrication machine whirred and made distressing noises as Celeste poured a cup of Trip-tea for her customer.

“Are you certain you don’t want to follow in your Captain’s shoes? You’d be fantastic as a model my dear.” Celeste said as she added sugar-substitute to the cups. The held out a cup to Parvati.

“Oh gosh, no. All those eyes, people judging, I’d get so nervous, I’d probably trip and rip one of your fabulous dresses.” Parvati said, taking the offered cup. “Shouldn’t you be working on the Chimera for the captain?”

“I have my other fabricator in my office working on that. It should be ready by the time your Captain returns with the lapel. So,” Celeste said. “Tell me about this person you’re going on a ‘date’ with. Oh, so old fashioned and formal, are the finalities of the contract not drawn up yet for your marriage? Going in for one last negotiation to try and seal the deal in your favor?”

Parvati almost spat out her tea. She held a hand to her mouth as she choked. “Oh! Marriage?! No no no no! This is just…we’re just having…I mean, I’m just going to ask…” Parvati shook her head. “She’s not from Halcyon, she’s a…she’s an engineer from Groundbreaker.”

“Really?” Celeste frowned. “Then, this isn’t for a contract or a negotiation? Why are you so insistent on getting one of my designs? Certainly this spacer would appreciate the more rough and tumble look they get from their own design of clothing. Your Captain showed me the look, it’s…singular.”

“I want…I…I really really like this woman, and I want her to know that when I’m not wearing the overalls, or battle armor, that I can look good. You make the best clothing in the colony and I want her to think that I’m that good.” Parvati blushed. “I want to ask her to be my girlfriend.” She said in a low voice. 

Celeste blinked and a strange look passed over her face. Like a child suddenly realizing the purpose of all the formulas their math teacher put on the board. Then it passed and she laughed. “Well, I certainly will provide. Ha, to think someone asked for my clothing for the cause of ‘love.’ It’s…well, it’s singular. You must come by and tell me when you go through with your ‘date,’ how it all went. I’m starting to get invested, this is like one of those bootleg serials!”

The thumping of the fab-tailor stopped and Celeste clapped her hands. “Wonderful, now go to the back and try it on.”

“Really?”

“I insist. The machine has a 0.042 chance of a fitting error of up to 3 micro-meters. I had it happen once, and I swore never again! Also, my dear you haven’t even looked at shoes, or my series of offsets! The dress is just the start!”

Parvati winced, she was starting to regret doing this. This whole thing was starting to turn into a nightmare, maybe she should just forget the whole thing. She stepped into the dressing room and started to change.

A few moments later she stepped out, looking at herself in the mirror. She liked how she looked. Or…well…did she? She bit her lip as she turned her shoulders back and forth to get a look. Maybe she only thought she looked good. Would Junlei like it though? Maybe the dress was nice but on her it looked so-so, maybe she should have done without the ever present sheen of engine grease that seemed to cling to her. Maybe she should have already started to use that soap she got? Her mind assaulted her with a thousand different other concerns.

“Dear, you look wonderful.” Celeste said. “You really should reconsider my modeling offer, I think a picture of you in that dress would help me-“

The door chimed as it opened. Parvati hurried back into the dressing room. The last thing she wanted to do was let the Captain see her like this. Not until she couldn’t help it. She didn’t want ANYONE to see her really.

“Celeste Jolicoeur?” A gruff voice said. A voice that was NOT the Captain’s. Parvati peeked through the side of the door to the dressing room to see a small group of Corporate Troopers in serious looking armor. This wasn’t the usual type either, that was UDL brand armaments. She got out of the dress, folded it up, and got dressed in her usual clothes in a hurry. 

“Yes, how can I help you officers?” Celeste said. She moved to place herself behind her counter, but one of the troopers moved to block her way.

“We’ve received reports of dissident activity. We’re here to respond.” The Corporate Commander said.

“Dissident activity?” Celeste laughed. “I’m sorry but that’s nonsense. I haven’t done anything of that sort. I’m not planning any kind of strike or forming an underground union here.”

“We’re under the understanding that you’ve been working on a new design?” The commander said. Not showing any signs of amusement or empathy. “You are aware that all new fashion designs first have to be approved by committee for their commercial value and marketability before being released to the public. Not to mention being of appropriate aesthetic.”

“Of course.” Celeste said. “I was just helping a customer with a dress. The standard kind of thing. She re-negotiating her marriage contract, and wants to show off her own marketability.”

Parvati frowned. Why was Celeste lying like that? Should she come out with the dress. The dress didn’t look anything out of the ordinary. Then she remember what else Celeste was working on. She found her hand drifting down to the waist of her outfit. Specifically, where she kept her modified impact hammer. Her finger hovered over the custom ‘overclock’ button.

“Search the store.” The commander said. The other troopers stared to inspect the haberdashery. Opening drawers and ruffling displays. They were less than gentle.  
“Careful.” Celeste said, trying to move away from the proximity of the Commander. “Some of those things can get wrinkled if they’re not handled carefully.”

“What’s in here?” One of the troopers said, pointing at the door behind the counter. “It’s locked.”

“That’s my personal office.” Celeste said. “There’s nothing in there but my accounts terminal. I’ll have you know that I know my rights. If you want to look at my accounts, you’ll need to present to me an A-38 warrant. Otherwise my financials are secured by a-“ The tailor stopped as the Commander thrust a data pad in front of her. “I see.”

“They changed it to just a template. Open this.” The Commander said.

“If you insist.” Celeste said, she walked over to the door and unlocked it. The door slid open and the Commander and the trooper walked inside. 

Parvati was creeping out from the dressing room at this time. The two troopers left in the store were focused on inspecting the drawers to see if there were any stray bits lying around that they could ‘confiscate.’ She had her impact hammer ready. For exactly what she wasn’t sure. She dearly wished that the Captain and the others would return. They were always much more confident around people with guns. What was taking them so long?

\- - -

“We were just AT Window 3,” The Captain said. “We filled out the Blue Form like they asked.”

“Very good.” The woman behind the glass said. “Now to claim your parcel, you’ll need to have the Red Form ready at Window 1. Here you are. Now, could you please move so the patron behind you can proceed?”

“Felix?” The Captain muttered. “Do you have the Grenade Launcher?”

\- - -

“What is this?” The Commander asked.

“That is…” Celeste took a deep breath. She decided to go for broke. It was just a suit, and so what if it was new. There was nothing wrong with it. It was her masterpiece.

“That is the Chimera. It is a Celeste Jolicoeur original. It has nine pockets, four visible, three hidden, one in the lower left pant leg, and the last one’s practically impossible to find. It has mantiqueen boning, and raptidon skin inner lining, the outer is pure primal leather. It can take the impact of a Hammersmith shotgun and not so much as chafe. It’s at home on the frontier plain and the board room and lethal in either. It is the color of Halycon’s sun at sunset as seen from the peak of a volcano.” Celeste said. “It is my latest work, and everyone in Byzantium will be screaming for it.”

“We have a confirm. This has been made from materials from Monarch. You realize that this is in violation of Corporate Decency Code 92-G085. Suspend this woman’s account and fine her.” The Commander said.

“What should I do about this?” The trooper said, poking at the Chimera, hanging against the wall on its hook.

“Destroy it.” The Commander said.

“What? No!” Celeste said, taking a step between the trooper and the Chimera. “It’s the only thing that’s keeping Byzantium from collapsing into drab uniformity and last month’s style. You can’t!”

“Step aside ma’am.” The Trooper said, turning on their plasma scythe. “This doesn’t have to get ugly.”

Something inside Celeste snapped. “Oh it was already ugly the moment you all walked into my store wearing that tacky armor. You all look like upright, over starched, zebras! I’m amazed you know how to dress yourselves at all.”

“That’s verbal assault on a UDL trooper performing their duty. That’s a fine, citizen.” The Commander said, taking out their plasma carbine. “Now, as we said before. Stand aside or we will regard you as a Class 1 Deviant and Dissenter.”

“You are an enemy of art, and I pity your ignorance.” Celeste said.

“Very well.” The Commander said, and nodded at the trooper.

The trooper advanced towards Celeste.

“No!” A voice rang out. Everyone turned to see Parvati, standing there.

“What the?” One of the trooper said.

“Celeste, cover your eyes!” Parvati yelled as she slammed down her hammer hard into one of the troopers.

Celeste shielded her eyes with one arm, and her other arm grabbed the Chimera. 

The world exploded into white.

Parvati then grabbed Celeste as the UDL troops were still stunned by the electro-shock blast. “Come on!” She shouted. 

The two women ran out of the haberdashery and out into Byzantium streets. Behind them they could hear the troopers regaining their bearings and taking pursuit.

\- - -

The Captain and Felix were coming down the street, parcel in their possession. “I don’t see why you paid them in the end, boss.”

“There are sometimes when all you need to solve simple problems is enough bits.” The Captain said. “And if I had to go to another window, I really was going to shoot someone. Anyway, I pride myself on my abilities. Talking people around is a skill. Using it just to pick up a piece of jewelry for a custom suit, is just a little…excessive. Besides, Celeste is giving me the suit for free, this is cheap.”

“What’s that?” Felix asked, pointing down the street.

The Captain and Felix saw two women barreling down the street, a suit flapping behind them, while they dodge plasma fire and bullets. A large group of soldiers advancing behind them.

“Not a simple problem.” The Captain said.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Captain shows off their dialogue skills.

“This way!” The Captain yelled. They weren’t sure about the specifics of the circumstance, but they were the flexible type. When your crew was being chased and shot at by corporate troopers, specifically the harass UDL kind, there were only so many ways you could react. He ran with the others down the tunnel that lead to the landing pads.

They had a lead on the UDL goons, so they reached the floor of the loading docks a few minutes before the guards. “Quick,” The Captain pointed at the mess of cargo being loaded and unloaded from the various ships that were using the area. “Find a box that’s big enough, and jump into it. Then don’t move. Not even if they load you onto a ship.”

“Got it!” Parvati said. She took, a still rather in shock, Celeste by the hand and ran through the area. There seemed to only be cases of Saltuna, fresh boxes of diet toothpaste, and Ah! This would do! Some Byzantium so-and-so had commissioned themselves a statues made out of pre-blockade Monarch Basalt. Highly fashionable for how risqué it was. The statue was out in the open, being a rather gaudy eyesore of a bare chested man on a too small horse. But the box was open and mostly stuffed with synthetic straw and packing peanuts.

“Ah! Watch the suit, I won’t have it wrinkled!” Celeste shouted as she was shoved into the crate, with Parvati right behind her. The mechanic grabbed a large clump of synth-straw and hid behind it as she squeezed into the box next to Celeste.

“Are you certain this will work?” Celeste asked in a hushed voice. “What do we do if they find us?”

“Ssshh!” Parvati hissed. “Trust in the Captain, they’ve always got a plan. They’ll see us through.”

“Okay. Follow my lead, Felix.” The Captain said, walking up to the arriving troopers.

“Okay, what’s the plan, boss?” Felix asked.

“Wing it.” The Captain said. They put a cross look on their faces, and pointed at what they hoped was the Commander of the outfit. “You! You better have a good explanation as to why you allowed them to escape!”

“What?” The Corporate Commander said. “But, you were with them!”

“Yes, and I was just about to apprehend them when YOU had them run all over the area, now they’re probably trying to jump onto one of these ships. What’s your ID Number? When I report this to the Adjutant, she’s going to be VERY interested in your future career.” The Captain snapped.

“You…you work for the Adjutant?” The Commander asked.

“Yes. I’m one of her special problem solvers. Do you think you were the only one aware of the current situation?” The Captain said. “Soph-Adjutant Akande was fully in control of what was going on. She sent me to deal with it, in a subtle way. The LAST thing we want is OPEN GUNFIRE on Byzantium streets!”

“But…but they were…” The Commander started.

“Fleeing, yes. We established that. Ugh, give me one of your officers.” The Captain said, pointing at one of the troopers. “The other two can stand guard outside. Check everyone that leaves, full scans, no exceptions. Do I make myself clear? Do a good job and your names WON’T appear in my report.”

The two troopers saluted and took off towards the spaceport’s entrance.

“As for you.” The Captain pointed at the Commander. “Where did this all start?”

“At Jolicoeur Habedashery.” The Commander said.

“Alright, so you managed to acquire the files then, yes?” The Captain said.

“What files?” The Commander said. “This was a Dissident and Culture Violation Inspection.”

“Oh by all the Laws. You don’t know ANYTHING!” The Captain said in despair, putting their hands to their face. “Alright, maybe the files are still there. Maybe you can save your job. Go back there, and open every drawer, every cabinet, get into every system, and leave no stone unturned there. IF you find those files, something that the Adjutant wants VERY badly, then this will have ended up being a productive day, and no one needs to lose their jobs. Understand?”

“Yes. Right away! Please inform the Adjutant that I had no idea, I mean, that I was already looking for the files when I-“ The Commander started.

“Just go.” The Captain said.

The Commander took off.

Felix just stared admiringly at the Captain. He knew the boss was good, the type of person who could tell a raptidon to chase their own tail, but it was another thing to see it in action. Why had they asked to keep this one corporate stooge with them however? Were…were they going to kill them? The boss had never been shy about taking human life, but those had always been marauders, or outlaws that had shot first. Not that Felix was opposed to taking out bastards like this stooge, but…still…doing it in cold blood made him hesitant.

“Alright, Felix, you go that way and start searching boxes. Look for something big enough to hide a person in.” The Captain said. “You. You’re with me.” They said to the trooper. “No, I don’t want to know your name. If we find our fugitives, then maybe you’ll end up in the report. Until then, everyone who doesn’t need to get written up about this fiasco stays nameless. That sound good to you?”

The trooper nodded.

“Great.” The Captain motioned for the trooper to go ahead and start looking through the assortment of to be loaded or unloaded crates that filled the spaceport. 

Felix smirked. At least the boss was good at buying time. Now, where were they hiding? The boss obviously wanted Felix to find them first. Then…well…he wasn’t exactly sure what the boss’ plan was then. A part of him was really hoping that the Captain wasn’t actually planning on killing the trooper.

What the Captain was doing was fiddling with their Backpack, and the endless pile of random junk that they seemed to carry with them all the time. It was one of those things that always made Felix a little befuddled. He poked through the boxes, ‘looking’ for the ‘escapees’ thinking about his time on the Groundbreaker. Keeping a lot of stuff was never a good idea for someone who got saddled with the title of ‘stowaway.’ People saw you with something, more often than not they assumed that you had stolen it. You either learned to get good at hiding, fast talking, or you just travelled light, and hid the good stuff where other people wouldn’t find it. Sprat dung was always a good method of keeping people away. 

The Captain on the other hand, never saw a thing-a-ma-bob that they didn’t want to pick up. They’d poke through their treasure trove as they travelled, and sell nearly everything to anyone that would take it. It made the split that much bigger, but sometimes the Captain needed ‘help’ carrying all their stuff, and it was an experience, lugging a pack full of raptidon hides that were still wet and dripping from being extracted from their owners across the sulfur stenched fields of Monarch.

Still, Felix was richer than he had ever been in his life after a few months traveling with the Captain. Not to mention they had stuck it to the Board in several interesting ways. So, he put up with the Captain’s weird quirks.

He wasn’t too sure about this though. After all, Celeste Jolicoeur was from Byzantium, one of the enemy. They were all about exploiting the masses, and following the corporate line, and all that other stuff that was bad. Okay, she just made clothes, but they were clothes for rich people. Did she ever make things like…like…vests? Or kneepads? No, those were for the common folk, not flashy enough. Now, she had gotten into trouble and obviously Parvati had saved her. That made sense too, in Felix’s mind, the Board strung you along, making you do whatever they wanted, until you weren’t useful anymore or stepped out of their little boxes. Then WHAM, they got rid of you. Alright, maybe he wasn’t keen on the idea of Miss Jolicouer being killed by UDL goons, but he did hope that this would open her eyes to the truth. Maybe she’d be a better person after this, and start doing things the right way, making clothes for people who did more than stand around with their heads up their asses all day.

Felix reached an open box, and pushed aside the synth-straw to see what was inside it. He looked into the frightened face of Parvati, holding her impact hammer. He blinked, and quickly pushed the straw back into Parvati’s face, and looked over his shoulder. The Captain was talking to the trooper, pointing at the ships that were docked in this part of the spaceport.

Felix caught the captain’s eye. He motioned with his head behind him at the large crate.

The Captain’s eyes widened and he stopped his speech about which ship would be more likely to take on a pair of fugitives. He pointed over the trooper’s shoulder.

“Look out! Behind you!” The Captain shouted.

The trooper turned, gun raised, and in a flash the Captain brought the stun stick they had fished out of their pack, right in the space between where the trooper’s helmet meed the back of their neck. There was a flash of electricity, and the trooper dropped like a sack of bricks.

“Felix, Parvati, Celeste.” The Captain said. “Come quick, help me with this guy.”

Felix ran over as the two women pulled themselves out of the crate. “Where are we putting this guy boss?”

“In the crate.” The Captain said. “Parvati, find the lid that goes with this thing. Get your hammer too.”

After a few minutes of lifting, and searching, the trooper was in the crate, properly supported by synth-straw and packing peanuts. Parvati had found the crate, and with the help of a few nails that were ‘borrowed’ from other containers, the lid was nailed shut.

“I think that should do it.” The Captain said. “Where is this crate headed?”

“According to the labels,” Felix said. “After the drop off here, it’s supposed to go to Marton.”

“Where’s that?” The Captain asked.

“It’s a Rizzo town, they’re supposed to have a big purpleberry orchard there.” Celeste said. “It was on Terra 2 Tonight as one of the four nicest places to have a vacation. They highly recommended the winery tour.”

“Well, that sounds lovely. I hope he enjoys it.” The Captain said. “Now come on, let’s get on the ship and get out of here before anyone gets wise to what we’ve done.”

“Are we sure there’s no time?” Celeste asked. “There’s…well…all I left with is this.” She held out the Chimera, still in its suit bag and hangar. “I didn’t pack any amenities or supplies, what if someone calls with an order and I’m not there!”

“Miss Jolicoeur,” The Captain said. “I think you have bigger worries than just missing out on an order. Oh, by the by. Did you get your dress Parvati?”

“Oh! Oh no!” Parvati said. “I left it in the dressing room! Oh, I’m so sorry!”

“For that?” Celeste said as the four of them walked towards the Unreliable. “Darling, you just saved my life. That was just a simple dress, I have to give you something to match my gratitude. I will make something that will cause your paramour to shudder with emotion at the mere sight of you. You deserve nothing less!”

“Really?” Parvati asked.

“Of course.” Celeste said. “I now insist on making something that’s more than worthy of the name Jolicoeur. It may not reach the heights of the Chimera, but that’s a beast of a different color. No…for you…I’m thinking something in gold, with highlights. Something that says ‘I’m someone special and you’re lucky to so much as know me, let alone earning my smile. Uh! Inspiration!”

They arrived at the gangplank of the Unreliable. So far there hadn’t been any sign of advancing corporate troopers with laser carbines drawn. That was good.

“Captain, do you have paper and drawing materials on your ship? I have been struck with another flash of brilliance, and must commit it down to writing. I have only so much time before it passes through my mind. Please, Captain, you mustn’t let this moment pass by or fashion may never recover!”

The Captain smiled as they opened the door and let in their crew and newest guest. “I’m sure we can scrounge up something.”

\- - -

“You continue your habit of collecting the eclectic, Captain.” ADA said as the Captain slid into the chair in the cockpit. “You are aware that we only have a limited number of cabins. Yes?”

“Yes, ADA. Thank you.” The Captain said. “We’ll deal with it. Just get us to Groundbreaker, please. How long will that take?”

“20 Hours, and 17 minutes.” ADA said. “Will I be requesting our usual docking bay, or are we attempting to be subtle for once?”

“Well, I’d thought I’d spare you the effort of filling out new forms. The usual docking bay is fine. Just check the posted bounties before we land. I don’t want to walk out to the promenade, and find that Miss Jolicoeur is worth a pile of bits. Last thing we need is some punk with a Spacer’s Choice pistol thinking he can jump us and get lucky.” The Captain said.

“I take it the action of simply keeping Miss Jolicoeur inside the ship isn’t an option?” ADA said.

“Not really. She’s really intent on getting Parvati her ‘heroine’ dress. I also swore that I’d get Parvati that date with Junlei if it’s the last thing my frozen ass does.” The Captain sighed. “Any news from Phineas?”

“Negative. There has been no communiques or activity reported from his secret lab.” ADA said. 

“The sooner he finishes whatever he’s working that’s so vital, the better.” The Captain groused. “Anyway, keep us sailing safe ADA.” The Captain said as they finished punching in the coordinates for the Groundbreaker.

“I always do, Captain.” ADA said.

With that, the Captain rose from their seat, and walked up the stairs to the kitchen, where the crew, and Celeste, were waiting.

“So, what’s the plan, Captain?” Vicar Max asked. “I don’t take it that Miss Jolicoeur is going to become a permanent fixture of the Unreliable. Is she?”

“No.” The Captain said. “No, she is not. I do have a plan though.”

“Oh?” Celeste said, looking up from the pile of scrap paper she had been drawing on. “Will I have to do anything…roguish?” 

The Captain shook their head. “We’re going to go to Groundbreaker. We’ll use their systems to get all of your assets that we can get our hands on. After that we fuel up, get provisioned, do a few errands, and then we’ll make the trek out to Monarch. I’m sure we can talk Sanjar into putting you up in Stellar Bay for a while. Hopefully, after a bit, Byzantium will forget about the whole ‘dissident’ thing, and you’ll be able to move back.”

“Hope you like the smell of fish, and sulfur.” Nyoka said.

“Inter-planetary travel, getting to see the wilds of fashion out there with my own eyes. How wonderful! It’s…a little more than I expected, but I’m sure I can adapt. Maybe I can find some new clients there!” Celeste said.

It was obvious that the fashion designer was trying to put on a brave face. The stress of what had just happened today was obviously starting to show on her. Thankfully, the crew of the Unreliable were tactful enough to not comment on it. Nyoka fished out a bottle of Purpleberry Liqueur and poured Celeste a glass. She took it gratefully with a shaking hand.

“So,” The Captain said, breaking the silence. “Sleeping arrangements. Get the fishbowl and the chore tokens.”

Living on a ship had a thousand little chores to do, especially with so many people living in such tight corners. The semi-diplomatic method of the chore bowl was necessary for a harmonious ship, and prevent homicide induced by someone never cleaning the toilet. It didn’t stop grumbling, but complaining about chores was a Law given right to every human in Halcyon. Provided that they actually did the chore, while they groused about it.

The solution was simple, there was a fishbowl, and everyone had their name written on small chunks of wood. Every week there would be a list of chores, and if your name was pulled from the bowl when that chore was being assigned, then that was your duty. It was fair enough, and kept the assignment varied enough that no one complained about being on toilet duty every time. 

“Nyoka, you okay with volunteering your sleeping pack?” The Captain said.

Nyoka nodded. “Sure thing, Cap. We don’t have to do this, you know. I can bunk in the cargo hold, no problem.”

“No, it’s okay.” Parvati said. “I can curl up in the engine room. It’s nice and warm down there.”

“This isn’t just for tonight.” The Captain said. “The trip to Monarch’s usually three days, four if we need to dodge gunships. I don’t want Celeste bouncing from room to room. Whomever gets to play host, also gets a bump from the split.”

“How much do we have to pay to keep out names out of the bowl?” Ellie said.

“Ellie.” The Captain said in a warning tone.

“What? I like my bunk, I finally got it so the lumps are where I like them. Besides, it’s not like I have the Byzantium standard three-thousand thread count sheets made of Earth silk. She wouldn’t want my bunk. No offense.” Ellie said.

“Then here.” The Captain held out the bowl to the ship’s doctor. “You pick. That way it’s your fault, whomever has to provide for our guest.”

“Alright.” Ellie dipped her hand in, rummaged it around, and pulled out a piece of wood. She looked at it and smiled. “Well, Captain, it looks like you get to prove to us the right way to show hospitality." She held up the piece of wood with the Captain’s name on it.

There was a pause. “Fine. That’ll do nicely. Nyoka, I could use your gear, and Parvati, could you show me where in the engine room I can bunk? I don’t want to sleep in the hold. It still smells of cow.”

Ellie ginned. She’d never tell the others that she memorized what shape and feel each chore chip felt-like. That was how she hadn’t gotten toilet duty for weeks. It was all about that little edge. The Captain had a bunch, but she prided herself on having just one or two more. That and sleeping on the floor hurt her back.

And through the darkness of space, the Unreliable sailed on.


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Parvati gets a new dress and has her date! Also, another individual in Halcyon gets a small coda to their story.

Groundbreaker was a hive of activity as usual. Ships coming and going, boxes being loaded and unloaded, and advanced levels of commerce were happening all around. It was a little imposing to people. It always made Parvati feel a little small when she entered from the loading dock.

The Captain, on the other hand, casually strolled in as if they already owned the place. Or at least was on a first name basis with the person who actually did. It always distressed Parvati a little when she realized that was also true for her as well. Still, this was Junlei’s ship, she’d be hurt if people came here and weren’t a little impressed at the result of all her hard work. Parvati felt that way about the Unreliable, people should come into her ship and feel that it was a good ship, a nice ship, a home. She really hoped that when Junlei came over for her date she’d get that feeling. Also, Parvati hoped she’d stop feeling like she was 13 years old every time that she thought about the concept of ‘going on a date.’ 

Celeste was acting particularly awed, her head rubbering around to look at every little thing. Specifically at the people, and she had commentary for nearly everyone there.

“Honestly, Captain.” Celeste said as the group walked through customs. “I should be much more angrier with you than I am. I ask you to model to me a sample of ‘spacer’ couture, and you show me what turned out to be the barest minimum of the culture!” She pointed at the Mardet that was watching the custom line. “Also, I need to find whomever designed that monstrosity and have a word with them. The colors are atrocious, and the combination of gold plating is an inexcusable crime against fashion.”

“Parvati, Vicar.” The Captain said after the group exited past the security gate. “Please take Miss Jolicoeur to the nearest clothing shop and see if they have the machines she’s looking for.”

“Of course.” Vicar Max said. “Where will you be?”

“I’m going over to Bedford. Just because there weren’t any posted bounties for Celeste doesn’t mean that she doesn’t have one out for her. Best to see how much trouble she’s in. That’ll help us determine how long her ‘visit’ to Monarch will be.”

“How long are you expecting?” Celeste asked.

“Well, if there’s no bounty, or if it’s just a couple hundred bits, then probably a month or a bit less. If it’s over a thousand…then you’re probably going to stay for a season or two. Higher than that is Phineas Wells territory of bounty, and that means a year at the least.” The Captain said. They held up a hand to the concerned looking Celeste. “I sincerely doubt that last one is going to be the case. No offense Celeste, but you are hardly the threat to Halcyon equal to the type of the infamous rogue scientist.”

“Alright,” Celeste paused. “Bedford? As in Udom Bedford?”

“You know him?” Parvati asked.  
“Just as a name on a client’s list.” Celeste said. “He orders quite a bit from me. Always gives me the nicest reviews as well. He’s a dear, give him my best.”

“Well, if it helps keeps you away from a firing squad, I’ll be sure to do that.” The Captain said. “Udom’s a soft touch anyway, maybe he’ll let me pay off your bounty here and now. Anyway, I’m off. Be careful, and don’t let Celeste out of your sight.”

“Of course, Captain.” Vicar Max said. “Miss Jolicoeur is in the safest hands imaginable.”

The Captain nodded and took off across the promenade to the Halcyon Board Embassy.

The rest of the Unreliable crew, and their guest, headed to other way past all the holo-signs and floating advertisements. 

“I think we’ll have to head off the main promenade to get to the clothing clothing shops.” Parvati said. “The Captain usually just has us by what we need from stores that sell armor or other heavy duty kinds of stuff.”

“Pfft. Utility.” Celeste said the word as if it was a dead animal she was picking off the side of the road. “The bane of existence. The world needs more than just padding and ceramics. Life without style isn’t worth living. Otherwise we’re all the same as canids, roving around looking for nothing more than our next meal or mate.”

“Well said, Miss Jolicoeur.” Vicar Max said. “I’m no longer certain about it, but I think that there are few people who are firmer on their own Plan than yourself.”

“Really?” Parvati said. “But doesn’t the Plan say that the strong are supposed to dominate the weak? Wouldn’t that mean that Miss Jolicoeur was supposed to be…hurt by those soldiers?”

“Ah, but you were stronger than those guards, Miss Holcomb. You were in the Haberdashery because of your love of Miss Jolicoeur’s work, and that is a result of her strength. Things follow a plan, sometimes things are a bit more intricate in how things work out.”

“Do you really still believe that?” Parvati asked.

“I’m actually not sure.” Vicar Max said. “Maybe there is no plan, and this is all just a random case of the right person being in the right place at the right time.” He shrugged, giving his cremate a smile. “But it’s an interesting thing to think about, don’t you think so?”

“Ah,” Celeste stopped infant of a storefront. ‘MacRedd’s Threads.’ “This looks like it shall do.”

“Uhhh, Celeste?” Parvati asked a little nervously. However, she asked too late as Celeste had already crossed past the counter and into the back room.

“Hello? Shopkeep? Is anyone here?” Celeste asked brightly. “I need to speak to you, not your automechanical. The opportunity of a lifetime is walking through your doors!”

“Yeah, yeah. I’m coming. Keep your sprats in your pants.” Came a sour sounding voice, as a reverently aged woman came out of the back room into the area. “Alright, first thing I’m gonna tell you is what I tell everyone. I don’t know where Gunny has gone, and even if I did, I can guarantee you by the Laws, I’m not going to tell you now. Got it? Good?” She sniffed her nose, took a handkerchief out of a pocket and blew into it for a good three seconds. Then she put it back into her pocket, and ran a hand through her thinning grey hair. She glared at Celeste through a pair of goggle thick spectacles. “Who are you, why should I care, and are you going to buy anything?”

“My dear, I am about to turn your store into a landmark. I am Celeste Jolicoeur.” Celeste said, posing a little.

Miss MacRedd seemed less than enthused. “Well, that’s good for you. Again, are you going to buy anything?”

Celeste sighed a little, and her eyes went down to the displayed goods on the counter. She picked up one and examined it. “The material could be better, but the cut is staggering in its presentation. Good seams too. Was this done by a Hasperdeen 1300?”

“Yes.” MacRedd said. Her tone had changed, as well as her stance. Now it was one professional to another. “Although the bobbins have been replaced, I popped them out and put in the ones from my old Glennrose 498.”

Celeste’s eyes went up and she blinked. “I heard about the Glennrose, they stopped making them because they were so good people wouldn’t upgrade after they bought them. Although all the Glennrose work I’ve seen has a bad habit with hemming bone stitches.”

“Which is why when it finally gave up the ghost, I upgraded to the Hasperdeen, the bobbins can’t be beat, but the programming is a marked difference.” MacRedd said. “Wait…Celeste Jolicoeur…not THAT Celeste Jolicoeur?”

Celeste smiled. “I can work with a Hasperdeen. What do you have for fabrics and dyes?”

“Synthwool, plasti-flax, and a little cow hide. Nothing fancy. Dyes, I have the standard assortment you’d find almost anywhere, though I’m low in pale violet.” MacRedd said.

Celeste sighed. “Not ideal, but I am here to work a miracle. If I cannot make a dress that subdues the captain of this ship’s heart, then I am not worthy of the name Celeste Jolicoeur.” She swept into the back room of the clothing shop her voice trailing behind her. “Pay the woman, Vicar. I am creating.”

“So, how much will using your fabricator, and your materials cost us?” Vicar Max said as he stepped up to the counter.

“Well…I suppose that depends on how much of my stuff the great Miss Jolicoeur is going to use. Also, my machine took a lot of work to get just right. If she offsets the settings making a fool scarf, that’s a whole days worth of work for me.” MacRedd said. “Although…we might be able to make a bit of a deal.”

The Vicar sighed. Haggling was not his forte. Nor was it Miss Halcombe’s. Still he wished to help his crewmates as he could. Not to mention the Captain had given him the ‘rainy day’ chip cartridge for this, so he had money to burn. Exactly how much money he was unsure, but the Captain had said ‘enough’ and left it at that. 

“What kind of a deal?” He asked.

“Whatever Jolicoeur makes? She keeps in the Hasperdeen’s settings. That way I can sell a ‘Jolicouer Original’ exclusively here. I won’t keep it the same, maybe change the colors to fit the Groundbreaker style, but…yeah.” MacRedd said. “Let me have that, and I could lower it down to…let’s say…7500?”  
“That sounds…reasonable.” Vicar Max said. “Let me check with Miss Jolicoeur.”

The Vicar walked to the back of the store. The fabricator was set in the back of the store. An imposing machine of steel, needles, thread, and glass. Celeste had the diagnostic screen up and was adjusting the settings.

“The machine’s wonderful but in dreadful condition.” Celeste said. “The heads haven’t been clean, the thread’s been overused on insets, and the less said about the fabric in the hopper the better.” She grinned. “It’s enthralling. I haven’t had to go this deep into the workings of my art for ages. Not since I opened the shop.” She shook her head. “I’m almost a little dismayed at how much I forgot. If it weren’t for…this thing…” She pointed to a half finished jacket that she had removed from the fabricator. “I wouldn’t have even thought of touching the basic settings. This Junlei Tennyson better fall to her knees and devote her endless passion to Parvati just by looking at her. Otherwise, I will be asking for multiple refunds from several people!”

“I don’t think Miss Halcombe is looking for that kind of emotion.” Vicar Max said. “Were you able to hear the conversation I had with the proprietor of the store?”

“She wants to copy my design and make money off of my name. Yes, I heard.” Celeste said, finishing up her adjustments to the fabricator and began the process of filling the machine with the materials that she planned to use. Vicar Max noticed that she was using the entire bottle of yellow dye.

“Is that fine? We rather need that discount.” VIcar Max said.

Celeste waved her hand. “It’s fine. When I’m returned to my rightful place in the colony and have access to my lawyer, we’ll discuss my cut from a store using my name and product. Go and pay the woman.”

“Do you need Miss Halcombe for any part of making her dress?” Vicar Max said.

“Just for the final fitting. I doubt the region of error on this machine is anywhere close to as exact as my old one. I still know her measurements and I have my vision.” Celeste said.

“You are an exemplar of your craft, Miss Jolicoeur.” Vicar Max said.

“Thank you.” Celeste said, as she pressed a button and the machine jumped to work, pulling fabric, spinning bobbins, and causing half a dozen needles to jump and thump, creating a full dress in moments. “I do like this machine, it has character.”

“Did your own fabricator lack character?” Vicar Max asked.

“A little, I always had to switch out whatever machine I was using every other month for the latest model. No one in Byzantium would wear anything that had last month’s machine seams in it. It wasn’t an imposition, and I always have a way to master fabricators. Still, you can always tell when a machine has a little character.” Celeste said.

“Miss Halcombe has a very similar outlook when it comes to machines, and our starship.” Vicar Max said.

“The Unreliable is a very…singular ship. With a crew that’s just as unique. How long have you all been together?” Celeste asked.

“Miss Halcombe and I have been with it since the Captain…took possession of it. That was a few months ago.” Vicar Max said. “Miss Ramnarim-Wentworth is our most recent companion of just over two weeks.”

“I see…one moment.” Celeste said as she pulled up the fabricator’s screen again and made some last minute adjustments to the almost complete dress. “What exactly do you all do? Other than random tasks assigned by fashion designers.”

Vicar Max chuckled as he answered. “Random tasks seem to be all that we do. We’ve fought marauders, wild animals, negotiated with dissidents, taken spiritual journeys, provided maintenance assistance with Groundbreaker, stole a satellite, did corporate espionage, and an assortment of other tasks I feel it would be best to not tell you about, lest it add to the reasons you cannot return to your home on Byzantium.”

“Sounds like a rather exciting life.” Celeste said. 

“It is.” Vicar Max said. “Being a part of the Captain’s crew is…incredible. I spend years trying to understand the Plan, that fact that every part of the Universe has a place. Now I feel that I’m suddenly bouncing around outside of everything, unplanned and totally unpredictable. Although, I’m just following in the Captain’s wake for the majority. It’s not a life for the faint of heart.”

“I see.” Celeste said. The machine stopped its motion and noise, and Celeste picked up her work to examine it. “Well…I was working with an out of date machine with a limited amount of material to work with. Still, I can call this a Jolicoeur with some pride. Go pay the woman, and tell Parvati dear to come in here. I have to ensure that this does have any margin of error.”

“Of course.” Vicar Max said. He exited the back of the store, and returned to the counter front, where Miss MacRedd was talking to Parvati and the young engineer was trying to be attentive. She still had that tendency to drift her eyes downward, but it was less dramatic these days, and she did make eye contact now and again. Max noted it was usually after she realized that she hadn’t looked at the person who was speaking in a while. It was a marked change from the days back in Edgewater. The Captain’s good influence, perhaps? Or maybe it was the fact that she was away from that wretched backwater. Either way, he supposed it was maybe a step in the right direction. Or maybe no steps needed to be taken, and Parvati was fine as she was. It was so…liberating to be so free to think in such open ways. That was something he had to be thankful to the Captain for.

“Miss Holcombe?” Vicar Max said. “Miss Jolicoeur would like to see you for the fitting.”

“Okay…gosh. I feel all nervous again.” Parvati said. “Do you really think it will look good? Will Junlei like it? Maybe after we get the dress I should go get so-“ Parvati started.

“The dress first, Miss Holcombe.” Vicar Max said. “Then I would speak to the Captain.”

“Right, right.” Parvati said. She nodded at Miss MacRedd and headed towards the back rooms.

“Now, Miss MacRedd.” Vicar Max said. He held out the ‘rainy day’ bits cartridge. “Miss Jolicoeur will be happy to allow you to use her design for your store. Although she may be back later to negotiate royalty fees. However, that may not be for a while. Miss Jolicoeur is…in between a few things. So that may take some time. Your fee is agreeable.”

The woman wearing the dark glasses took the cartridge with a smile shopkeepers saved for good customers, and plunged it into the register. Vicar Max tried to give the woman a smile, but MacRedd was too occupied at pressing the buttons.

The proprietor withdrew the cartridge and handed it back to the Vicar. Max knew that all data for cartridges were stored digitally, yet it still felt lighter.

After a few moments, the two women came out of the back of the store. Celeste looked very pleased with herself. Parvati was blushing deeply.

“The fitting went well, I take it?” Vicar Max said.

“I am satisfied. Junlei Tennyson will be entranced. I have no doubt.” Celeste said.

Parvati held the folded dress close to herself. “I’m not sure. I mean…what if everything’s not perfect yet? I think we could maybe go find out what Junlei’s favorite music is and get a recording so we can play it during dinner.”

“Perhaps you should speak to the Captain, Miss Holcombe.” Vicar Max said. “They are skilled at acquiring things like that.”

Parvati nodded.

The trio gave their thanks to Miss MacRedd and went back to the main promenade. The day cycle was nearing its end so there were only so many people walking around at this time. That made spotting the Captain, and the others, quite easy. They were at the Spacer’s Choice stall, talking to Martin Callahan.

“I’m not talking about going so far as to removing the mask.” The Captain said, with a smirk on their face. “Just a change in the design. Maybe one in Spacer’s Choice colors, one with a partial or full eclipse? Something so that every day when you wake up, before you put…that…on, you have the luxury of a choice. Even a small one.”

“I never thought about that.” Martin said. That was followed by a deep sigh. “But any change to Spacer’s Choice merchandise or wear need to be approved by Spacer’s Choice Advertising Committee and weighed for its profitability and long term cost/benefit for the brand. It why Spacer’s Choice has had the number 1 logo for all of Spacer’s Choice customers. This moon is a product of many years of design and labor. I’m wearing a legacy.”

“Well,” Ellie said. “Can’t say you didn’t try. Enjoy your legacy Martin.” The group turned away from the poor moon man to see the others approaching.

“Hello, everyone.” The Captain said. “Did everything go okay?”

Parvati frowned. The Captain had that look on their face. The look they reserved usually when they were talking to someone that was going to end up part of the Captain’s ire…which meant that she might have made a mistake leaving her impact hammer back on the Unreliable.

“Is something wrong Captain?” Parvati asked.

“Udom Bedford…had an accident.” The Captain said. “He’s dead.”

“Oh!” Parvati said. “Oh no. What happened?”

“Not sure.” The Captain said. “I have some people to talk to. First though we need to give the man a funeral.”

“Really?” Ellie said. “Since when were we going to do that?”

“Since I decided that Udom deserves a little better than just being dumped out the garbage chute like just another mantipillar corpse.” The Captain said. “Max, you know what to say?”

“In general.” Vicar Max said. “I don’t hope you plan on me eulogizing him.”

“No,” The Captain shook his head. “Although I’ll probably need your help moving the body.”

“We’re taking him to be buried?” Felix asked.

“No.” The Captain said. “We’re just getting something for him to rest in, and putting him out the airlock. He was a man of the stars, in his own way. Besides,” The Captain sighed. “I checked. He doesn’t have any real family except back in Byzantium, and I doubt they’d pay the gravesite fees.”

“Not for Byzantium.” Ellie said. “Those go for a premium. Full deluxe sarcophagus with added mausoleum fees. They cost a pretty large amount of bits.”

“Think your parents shelled out some for you?” Nyoka asked. “Since you’re dead and all.”

“Please, the Fenhill final resting home is for distinguished members of the clan. I doubt I rank higher than an ice bucket on a shelf. Probably filled with cigar ashes.” Ellie said.

“Excuse me, what?” Celeste asked.

“Ellie’s folks said she was dead.” Felix chimed in. “It was a whole thing, but we’ll get them back, Captain promised.”

“I see. When you say ‘Fenhill,’ you wouldn’t happen to be the formely-thought-deceased Marylin Fenhill, would you?” Celeste asked.

Ellie sighed. “Yeah, that’s me.”

“I see.” Celeste said. She pressed her lips tightly together and narrowed her eyes at the sawbones. “You and I should have a conversation later.”

“Anyway, back to better topics. The dress, everything ready?” The Captain asked.

“It is.” Celeste said. “This Tennyson woman will be utterly taken with our dear mechanic.”

“Excellent. While the Vicar and I are tending to Udom, you take Parvati to the ship, get her washed up. The food’s ready, and the kitchen’s all yours for the evening.” The Captain said. “While you’re having your evening with Junlei, me and Max will do our thing, anyone is welcome to come if you want. I think Celeste and Ellie need to have some time at the Lost Hope, and then after dinner and the funeral, we’ll load up and head out to Monarch.”

“Well, Captain…” Parvati started, getting a blush on her cheeks. “I was talking to the others, and I was thinking that maybe I should try and find-“ 

“No.” The Captain interrupted. “It’s happening today, Parvati. No more ‘one extra thing.’ You know that you’re just stalling now, don’t you?”

Parvati looked down at her feet. “I’m sorry Captain. I just…”

The Captain put a hand on Parvati’s shoulder. “You’re ready. This is not the scariest thing I’ve seen you do. You ran up to a mantiqueen and hit it in the head with your hammer. Anyone who can do that, can go out on a date.”

“Thanks, Captain.” Parvati said. “I guess, I’ll…go get ready and then message her to come over.”

“Good.” The Captain said. “Also, if she breaks your heart, we’ll simply take over Groundbreaker, get its skip drives working again, and go find a new colony with a better girlfriend. Maybe throw some people out of the airlock for fun.”

“Captain!” Parvati said.

“Ooh, dibs on the looting!” Ellie said.

\- - -

“Have you done many funerals?” The Captain asked as he pushed the box containing Udom Bedford’s corpse into the airlock.

“A few. It requires an extra cost, so most people decline them.” Vicar Max said. “Miss Holcombe had me give her father one. I don’t think she appreciated it as much as she thought she would.”

“Grieve in the way that makes you happy.” The Captain said.

“Does this make you happy?” Vicar Max said. 

“It reminds me that I’m not like the Board, or the people that blindly follow everything that it says.” The Captain said. “Also, I figure doing this slightly increases my chances that if someone finds my dead body, they’d do more than just roll it into a ditch after prying out my fillings.” The Captain paused for a moment. “Vicar, next time we’re in Emerald Vale, remind me about this. There’s another thing I gotta do for someone…two someones actually. ADA will want to know.”

“Very well Captain,” Vicar Max took out his rosary beads, and his OSI scripture book. “I can start whenever you’re ready.”

With a last grunt of effort, the Captain closed the door to the airlock. “Alright, oof, we should have found a lighter box. Go ahead.”

“There is only the Plan. All things are known, all paths are set. This Path has ended. Where it goes now, there is no knowing. You lived your life, Udom Bedford, I hope you lived your Path to its fulfillment and that it brought you peace and happiness. You can rest, knowing that those you have helped along their own Paths will remember you, and continue on in your stead. Farewell.” Vicar Max said, reading from the book.

“That’s it?” The Captain asked.

“That’s it.” Vicar Max said.

“Well, I can see why Parvati wasn’t thrilled with that. How much do you charge for that anyway?” The Captain asked.

“I don’t charge anything. They have to pay the OSI for service fees.” Vicar Max said.

“Of course they do.” The Captain sighed. “Alright, let’s see. Udom Bedford was…” The Captain paused. They weren’t sure how honest they’d be if they said that Udom was a ‘good’ man. He was responsible for a lot of grief for Groundbreaker. However, that was his job, if he didn’t the Board would have been displeased. Thankfully the right word came to them. “A loyal person. He served his job faithfully and tried to do his best. He also was a patron of arts. The serials he helped fund brought happiness and enjoyment to many. I hope wherever he is now, he’s meeting up with his friend Alex Hawthorne and they’re both enjoying a drink together.”

“Well said.” Vicar Max said.

“Safe travels, Udom.” The Captain said as they pressed the button to open the airlock. The large box holding Udom’s body drifted out into the infinite blackness of space.

The two men stood there in silence for a moment. Then the Captain sighed, signaling that the moment had ended. They left the airlock and returned to the promenade. There they caught up with Felix, Nyoka, Ellie, and Celeste.

“So,” The Captain said. “Is Parvati done, or…actually hang on.” The Captain turned their personal data assistant back on. There was a message waiting for them, it had a lot of exclamation points on it. “Okay, so I think she’s done. Let’s go back to the ship quick, I want to see Parvati before she changes back into her overalls.”

The group started back towards the docking bays.

The Captain hung back with Ellie. “So, what’s Celeste’s deal?”

Ellie shrugged. “I don’t know. She just sat in the bar, drinking and giving me glares.” She said quietly. “I think she just didn’t want to make a scene in public, or she’s doing the fine Byzantium tradition of letting bad feelings and resentment stew in subtlety and passive aggressiveness.”

“I don’t like stuff that could explode at bad times.” The Captain said. 

“Well, it’s not my fault, whatever her problem with me is.” Ellie said.

“You know that’s not true, Fenhill.” The Captain said. “You should give a care about other people. Especially if it turns out you owe her for something.”

“Ugh,” The doctor made the same annoyed face she always did when the Captain tried to get her to care about other people or be empathic in the least. Still they managed to hit that one button that always caused her to react. She really regretting letting that fact about her slip during their first meeting. “Fine. I’ll get it out of her on the trip to Monarch. I promise.”

“Just trying is enough for me. Thank you, Ellie.” The Captain said.

The group arrived at the Unreliable, and the Captain quietly opened the entry door.

“Is Junlei still here ADA?” They asked.

“Captain Junlei Tennyson has left the Unreliable. Parvati is almost done cleaning up the kitchen.” ADA said.

“Good. Has she changed out of her dress?” The Captain asked.

“Not yet.” ADA said.

“Good. Close and lock her bunk until after we see her in it. Don’t give her a chance to run and change, when she hears up coming up the stairs.” The Captain said.

“Understood, Captain.” ADA said.

“Thank you, ADA.” The Captain said. Then they motioned for the rest to come into the Unreliable.

“Is that you, Captain?” Parvati asked from above. 

“It’s all of us. We’re getting things ready to go.” The Captain said, as they walked up the stairs to the galley.

“Alright. Umm…ADA…there’s something wrong with my door.” Parvati said.

The Captain, the crew of the Unreliable, and Celeste, arrived at the top of the stairs, and saw Parvati trying to get into her room. One arm holding her flower Petunia (Which was not a petunia), and the other holding a recently taken and framed photo. 

Parvati’s dress was…a statement. It said ‘this person is a living beam of sunshine in the world and your life is better if you are someone who knows her.’ It flowed down to her ankles, the soft yellow color offset by the visible stitching set in a deeper shade of yellow. All of it was counterpointed by a beautiful blush of red right across her heart. It also showed off her toned arms, and shoulder muscles. It welcomed and invited people to get close to her. Celeste had done beyond her usual best. Parvati looked beautiful, even with that permanent sheen of engine grease that hung around Parvati like perfume.

“It will do. My next will be better.” Celeste said, sounding very self satisfied.

“Did things go well?” The Captain asked with a grin.

“Yes! I mean…I’m her…Captain! Please!” Parvati blushed red and tried to hide herself behind Petunia. 

“Alright, ADA. I’m satisfied. Unlock the door.” The Captain said.

The door to Parvati’s bunk slid open, the mechanic shot her captain a dirty look as she entered her room and shut the door with as much indignant force as an automatic door could provide.

The Captain turned to the rest of the gawking crew. “Alright, alright. Show is over, let her have some privacy, we’ll have all the time on the way to Monarch to get the juicy details. In the meantime, get things ready for the trip.”

The rest of the Unreliable crew gave sounds of confirmation. In a little over an hour, the Unreliable rose up from the Groundbreaker docking bay, and made its way out into the stars. This time, the world a little bit nicer than it was before.


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Fun times on the Unreliable.

It was like living at home all over again. Ellie _hated_ that. 

She had experienced different kind of ship atmospheres. Some were always tense and a little violent. Those were the ships filled with Type-A Pirates. They were always jockeying for position, looking for weakness. Any excuse to start a fight and increase one’s personal share of loot, reputation, or both. She could deal with those kind of ships. All she had to do was break someone’s nose when they looted the medical cabinet for free painkillers, and then make sure that she reset it in place. After that people respected her position, and the general rule of rough and tumble ships, where people got injured often, was to not piss off the person who could fix you.

She had been on ships that were almost little cults. People devoted to the leader, usually the captain, but sometimes not. They held court like minor kings, doling out favor and loot to those that pleased them (Read: Kissed ass) enough. Again, people were usually willing to let the doctor be as long as they could stitch people up with the minimum amount of pain. In those cases, though it was always good to find out what kind of vice the ‘great leader’ had and make sure you always had some on hand. The real secret was jumping ship before you found yourself agreeing with the egomaniacal asshat, and ending up part of their ‘family.’ No ship payed THAT well.

She had been on a professional ship once. It was an open secret that they were working for the Board as under the table fixers. It was fun for a bit, raiding other ships for corporate secrets, and the pay was always good. However, at the end of the day, it was more of a ‘job’ job than just freebooting across the system. The Captain expected efficiency, which meant that there wouldn’t be any kit bashing together medical solutions out of popsicle sticks and wonder glue. It also mean supply reports, and forms for refills. It was nice to have a fully stocked medical cabinet, but it was hardly worth the headache of filling out a H-237 every time she used stitches. 

The Unreliable was…nice. The Captain didn’t ask for anything beyond your best effort, and they were pretty good at keeping the medical cabinet stocked. Although, with the rate she was pulling bullets, canid teeth, and mantisaur claws out of people, she had to go back to popsicle sticks and glue more than once. Plus, this time she actually got to know the other members of the ship. Other times they had just been people who happened to be on the same ship as her. Maybe she’d learn their names if they had a regular poker game, but otherwise they were just people on her doctor’s table. The only difference being the type of wound they most often acquired. Here, she had to…socialize. Thankfully it wasn’t very hard. Parvati was just a sweet roll of innocence, Felix was every dumb cocky kid she had ever met but this time he was sincere about it, Nyoka never met a bottle she couldn’t empty, SAM was a good listener, and the Vicar…well…he used to be her number one source of entertainment but now he was ‘at peace’ with the universe or whatever. She…well…she didn’t hate it. Also, the Captain was a real case study. They seemed annoyingly set in their goal to make Ellie question her life philosophy. Every time something came up that in some way showed, briefly, that there was some merit in working, or trusting, other people, the Captain would make a point of pointing it out to her. It was annoying as hell. The worst thing about it, was that Ellie was starting to see the point of it all. The Captain wasn’t stupid about trust, they always confirmed anything they were told, and kept their eye on the prize, but they were just…willing. Willing to take that jump from where they stood, to some place that was only promised by someone else’s word. Then they expected Ellie to make that jump with them. What was worse was that Ellie was starting to…agree with that view point.

It was without a doubt the Captain’s fault. They had this skill, all they had to do was look at you and the right words would come to their mind. They could tell you that the sky was green and for a crucial few moments, you’d actually believe them. It was amazing to have that kind of talent on your side. A little less amazing when you realized that they were using that talent on you. Ellie had thought she was made of sterner stuff, that her brain wasn’t the usual lump of corporate flavored porridge that the rest of colony seemed to possess, that she wasn’t the type to be swayed by pretty words. It was clear that the Captain knew that just one sentence would sway her, so they did it slowly, one speech and example at a time. Slowly wearing her down, until what? She became a ‘better person?’ Well, the Captain still had a long way to go before that happened.

And would that be such a bad thing? A traitorous voice in the back of her mind whispered. (And to be honest, did sound like the Captain) She pushed it away and tried not to think about it. She refocused on her current woes, the fact that the Unreliable had become just like medical school back in Byzantium. 

Celeste was good at this. Ellie wasn’t surprised at that. You rose to the top through talent and hard work, that was true. But you rose to the top in Byzantium by knowing how to play the game, and she played it well.

Start off by making it clear that you ‘had a problem’ with someone else. The whole bit about ‘needing to have a talk’ was quite well done. Keeping the nature of the grievance vague, while still making it seem that you were willing to approach it like a mature adult. Then, just like in med school, they’d do nothing about it. Oh, they’d sit down at the table with you, take meals, behave normally, but they would very specifically, and very publicly, not speak to you. Every once in a while giving you a significant glare or a not-subtle look. The message was clear, they wanted you to come to them. Approach on bended knee and ask, nay, beg them to tell you how you had sinned and what you needed to do to make things up to them. It was all one giant power game.

Well, screw that. Ellie had taken pains to get away from Byzantium bullshit like that. Especially after that…result…she had gotten from her parents. Miss Jolicoeur could do all the looks and little sniffs with her nose that she wanted. This was the Unreliable, her ship, her ground. She was the medic, and that meant she was the one with the power here. No longer some wet behind the ears med student, subject to the whims of doctors or residents who enjoyed flexing their power on the powerless. Celeste was in store for a BIG change once she hit Monarch. The sulfur smell had made Ellie’s eyes cross when she had first gotten her first whiff. There was no telling what that would do to someone who had never left Byzantium’s walls. She wished that she had a camera, so she could record the moment that it happened.

Still, people on the ship were starting to notice. No one had said anything about, however, it was clear that there was a division starting to form. There were ‘Ellie Times’ and ‘Celeste Times’ when the rest of the crew would interact with one person or the other, and during those times they’d make the effort to not include the other, for the sake of ship harmony. Thankfully, there were only two more days of this nonsense. Then they’d be on Monarch and they’d have betting things to do with their time.

That was good, because if it were any longer people might start to pick sides. Ellie wasn’t sure how she’d turn out in that. Sure, she had kept nearly all of the others from dying or losing limbs at one point or another, but Celeste was…charismatic. She had that Byzantium sense of superiority and arrogance. However, the annoying pack was that she didn’t extend it to everything she did. No, she was a creator of wearable art, and let the rest of the world have their own wheelhouses, to which she was quietly appreciative. That might have let Ellie slide ahead with a few points more, but the trouble with having a big ego is that when you have the skills to match your own claims, it makes you more likable. This really was just back in Byzantium and Med School, where you were always on edge for that one student who was intent on edging you out. Trouble was, she couldn’t just slip a sprat into their belongings and let that settle things. First, her ‘things’ were the Captain’s bunk, and he was really touchy about people messing with his trophy collection. (No surprise, hoarder that he was.) Second, was that thanks to Parvati and SAM, there were no sprats on the Unreliable. Ellie felt that was kind of a deficiency. They were a rough and tumble ship of ne’er do-wells, occasional smugglers, and flagrant dissidents. The ship should have a sprat or two scuttling around. It helped the look. Still, if it was between the look and not stepping in sprat dung, she might forego the look in this one feature.

It did seem that the Captain was immune to that kind of herd mentality. They would talk to Ellie or Celeste whenever they weren’t sitting in the pilot’s chair, staring out at the stars, talking to ADA, or fiddling with their data pad. They seemed to do that a lot. When they weren’t doing that, they were going through their piles of junk, or tinkering on the workbench in the hold. They hadn’t been living in all the little games of Halcyon, so they hadn’t picked a side yet in the oncoming Celeste/Ellie conflict. 

Which meant that if Ellie got the Captain on her side, she’d win the ship over, as everyone else would follow the Captain. The Captain was reading on their data pad as they said in the ‘pilot’s’ seat. Ellie put on her best casual walk up to the Captain.

“Be the bigger person, and ask her what’s wrong.” The Captain said without looking up.

Ellie frowned, but kept herself from pouting. “You don’t know Byzantium types like I do, she could be holding a grudge for some incredibly petty reason. I’ve seen whole families ruin each other over two women walking into a bar, wearing the same hat.”

“It’s not that. It is a little silly, but it’s not totally frivolous.” The Captain said.

“So you know what she’s mad about? Did she tell you?” Ellie asked. If Celeste had broke first and told the Captain her complaint, then that meant Ellie had won this game of social chicken.

“Nope. Figured it out myself.” The Captain said. 

“What? How?” Ellie asked.

“I listen to people. Also, I have a pretty good memory. The rest is putting a few things together. It’s actually a little funny really.” The Captain said.

“Alright…what was it?” Ellie asked. If she knew what Celeste was mad about and came at her with it first, she’d still have it as a minor victory…as long as no one knew she had gotten the info from the Captain.

“Not telling.” The Captain said, still not looking up from their data pad. “Go ask her. Stop being Ellie the Byzantium and be Ellie the Pirate Doctor who doesn’t care about social game bullshit.”

Ellie did pout at that moment. Still, part of her was nagging about her every time she gave Celeste a ‘Byzantium’ smile. That she really was betraying all the years of proper rebellion, and that she was going to give it up for Celeste Jolicoeur of all people. Still, she wouldn’t be Ellie Fenhill without trying for a little edge. 

“Can I get a hint?” She asked.

The Captain sighed. “It’s not something you did, it’s what your parents did.” Then they turned from their data pad to the star map, signifying that the conversation was over.

Ellie walked away, she slowly climbed the stairs thinking about what had just been said. Okay, so…what did her parents do to Celeste Jolicoeur? The recent bout of dissident behavior, and panicked escape from Byzantium was a recent development. Before then Celeste was on the upper strata of Byzantium’s pecking order. If you displeased her, she’d critique your clothing, even if it was her own, and you’d be unable to show your face at the fancy parties for weeks. Her parents weren’t anywhere near the level of clout to defy Celeste. They also bought her clothes, like everyone else in Byzantium, so they wouldn’t want to cheapen them by making her look good.

Also, Celeste was mad at her, specifically, not her parents. Ellie had a lot of experience with passive aggressiveness, so she could recognize the difference between ‘personal slight’ and ‘mad at you as a proxy for someone else.’ So, her parents did something, something that involved her and Celeste, and that was why she was mad. She could figure this out. She was smart. 

She wished she had been more attentive to other people. Oh, she was all ears when they were describing pains, ills, and aches. That was her doctor training, it’s just when people started talking about things that weren’t important or interesting, like when Felix started to talk about toss ball, she’d slightly drift off. 

Okay, no, she was smart and she didn’t spend all the time people talked thinking about what she’d say next. She paused as she checked the Captain’s quarters, Celeste wasn’t in there. That must mean she was in the galley. Good, a few more moments to figure this out.

She really wished she remembered more of the ‘conversation’ she had with her parents. She had been so mad at how things had gone, she could barely remember half of what they had said. Apart from the fact that they preferred her dead than alive. Wait…that was what had set Celeste off, finding out that she was dead on paper. So, it had to do with her death that her parents had…made…up.

Oh.

Celeste was quietly working in the kitchen when Ellie came up to her and sat down at the table across from her. She paused in her drawings of a new line of suits based around SAM’s ascetic, gave Ellie a quick glance, recognizing her presence, and then went back to her work.

Ellie cleared her throat and sighed. “I’m sorry my parents killed me by wearing your shoes.”

Celeste put down the pencil she was using, and took a deep breath. “Felix explained to me the nature of your parent’s deception. It wasn’t your fault.”

By Byzantium standards this was considered to be a tie match. Honor was restored, and there would be no need for a factional war. Peace reigned.

Still, technically in Ellie’s books, this meant that she technically owed Celeste. Just a little. That was something that needed to be managed.  
“We’re planning on getting back at them.” Ellie said. “They killed me to get their hands on a life insurance pay out. We’re going to make it so I’m the beneficiary instead of them. If you like…we can arrange it so you get a little something out of it as well.”

“Why do you need to go to Monarch to do that?” Celeste asked.

“It’s a Sublight thing.” Ellie waved it off.

“Ah.” Celeste nodded. Ellie was a little impressed. You had to be really on the ball to understand that kind of reference. Well, she supposed that you didn’t stay at the top of Byzantium’s fashion world by being out of touch.

“So, you want a percentage, or a flat amount?” Ellie asked.

Celeste drummed her fingers. “I had to scrap my entire shoe like that season. No one wanted to buy anything but the ‘killer’ shoes. To make things worse, those shows were on the lower end of my creative creations in that run.”

“Really?” Ellie asked. “How popular?”

“Popular enough to cover the run.” Celeste said. “I had just made the 12 inch heels to see if it could be done. A whimsical experiment, less a work of art.”

“So you didn’t lose any money thanks to me.” Ellie said.

“Not off the shoes. A series of fashion based lawsuits started to fly after that. Suing people because of their dress for one reason or another became terribly popular.” Celeste sighed. “I survived, thanks to being able to purchase legal representation from Saymore & Griggle.”

Ellie winced. Everyone from Byzantium knew about S&G Legal. They were legendary, and had only lost one case in their entire history. That history was nearly as long as Halcyon Colony itself. It was probably not unhelpful that members of the law firm had blood relationship ties to nearly every colony chairman. There were rumors that Griggle was even distantly related to the Adjutant herself. It also went without saying that their legal fees were staggering.

Yep, if Mother and Father had forced Celeste to hire Saymore & Griggle to avoid being sued, then that meant Ellie owed her. So there’d be no sneaking out of this. No matter how popular her death shoes had been.

“Alright,” Ellie said. “So, I was thinking maybe…3% of the payments? They’ll be coming in regularly, and are fairly substantial. They were enough to afford my parents to get Earth-sourced marble for their parlor floor.”

Celeste took her hand holding a pencil and drew up a few figures on the paper she was drawing new dress designs on. “I don’t think I’ll need more than 2%, and no longer than…let’s say three years?”

Ellie’s eyes went up. Celeste was playing nice. Of course, this was less out of the goodness of her own heart, but rather the fact that Celeste didn’t want to take too much from people who had saved her life and were looking for a new home for her. That would be openly rude, and that was just unheard of by a proper Byzantium citizen. 

Ellie nodded. “Deal. I’ll make sure the paperwork gets all sorted.”

Celeste nodded back. “Honestly, those shoes really were just a little flutter. I was just trying to see how high I could make the heels before they got plainly ridiculous. I thought I had reached my zenith with 10 inches. Now those shoes were stunning. I was quite proud of them. The 12 inches were more of a joke than anything else.” She sighed. “It’s always the works of whim that always become so popular.”

“Reminds me of my time near the end of med school. There was that Dissident Hunter serial that had that one guy, the evil renegade Union manager? Everyone liked him better than the Hunter, and his whole thing was his signature broken nose. We were getting people in all day who wanted their noses ‘fixed’ just like he did.” Ellie shook her head. “By the end of that week I was about ready to fix it for them the quick way.” She mimed punching the air.

“Did you know, I once tried to get everyone to have an allergy to the color moss green?” Celeste said. “I came that close to having the shade declared illegal.”

The rest of the day was spent with the two women, swapping stories of how they survived, and manipulated, the toxic world that was Byzantium.

\- -  
“Is this really necessary?” Celeste asked, as she stood in the hold, next to Parvati. The mechanic looked just as uncomfortable as the fashion designer.

Noyka just nodded and crossed her arms. “Monarch isn’t like Byzantium. You can stay behind the walls, and lock yourself in a room. But there’s always a chance something could happen. Baby raptidon could squeeze in and start spewing acid everywhere; Sublight goons could come try to shake you down; someone gets drunk, takes too many pep pills, and watches a tossball match and decides to reenact it with you. A thousand other possible things. You won’t have the luxury of hiring someone to watch you all the time either. Especially now that the Iconoclasts are behind the walls as well. People are busy. You need to look out for you. Which means you’ll have to learn how to use a gun.”

“Nyoka’s a real good teacher about this stuff.” Parvati said. “I’m kinda hopeless, but I think I’m getting better.”

Nyoka smiled at Parvati, but didn’t comment.

“I’m not asking that you become as good as me or the Captain.” Nyoka said. “Just that you know how to hold a weapon properly, and know how to fire it.” She pointed at the poor, deeply abused, training dummy that they used for target practice. “When you shoot Dimitri here for about 20 ft away, we’ll call it good.”

“Poor Dimitri.” Parvati said.

“Aww, he likes it.” Nyoka said with a smile. “Now…I took the bullets out of yours Celeste, just get you a feel for the weight of the thing, but what’s rule one and two, Parvati?”

“A gun is always loaded, even when it isn’t.” Parvati says. “And only point it at something you want to shoot.”

“Good.” Nyoka said, as she handed out the Spacer’s Choice guns to the two women. 

“It weighs more than I thought it would.” Celeste said, holding the gun like it was an animal that might bite her. “On the serials they’re always waving them around.”  
“Because those are fake and made of plastic.” Nyoka said. “Now I just want you to look at your gun for a while. Take it in. This isn’t some terrible item of global destruction. It’s just a thing. No different than your fabricator’s needles. It’s a dangerous thing, but not something that’s going to jump up and stab you.”

Celeste and Parvati took the time to look at their weapons. Celeste was frowning, and Parvati was doing her best to appear thoughtful. She had heard this speech from Nyoka before and she only partially understood it. 

Nyoka positioned the two women, and handed Celeste some ear plugs. “It’s always good to put these in the first time. Gunshots are loud and until you’re used to them, your ears don’t deserve the shock.”

Celeste nodded in thanks and put in the earplugs. She was still nervous about the pistol in her other hand. She always imagined that if she ever had a gun it’s be something more…attractive, like a T&L Auto-Pistol, not this squat thing that barely had a barrel to speak of. Really, Spacer’s Choice had no real sense of style. Also, from what she heard, they had little in the way of actual utility as well.

“Alright, Parvati.” Nyoka said. “Let’s try this again.”

Parvati sighed, and took her position, staring down at Dimitri’s blank face. The Captain and Ellie had fixed the most recent holes in him. Seeing as it was the Captain who had used him last, that meant that Dimitri’s head was a network of new leather patches and thick stitches by way of Ellie’s needle.

“No rush, Parvati.” Nyoka said. “Remember, this is just another tool, and you’re just fixing another problem like it. Just like any other problem you find in the Unreliable.”

Parvati nodded and repeated that over and over in her head. ‘It’s just another tool. It’s just another tool.’ That was supposed to help, she wasn’t sure if it did. She took a deep breath and aimed the pistol. Pulling the trigger was always harder than she thought it would be. The bang was loud as hell, especially in the metal walled hold of the Unreliable. It made her wince.

Dimitri rocked back and forth, the target dummy now sporting a new hole…in its right shoulder. More of a graze than anything else, but it was still a hit. That counted, right? Parvati looked at Nyoka. The huntress gave the mechanic a nod of approval.

“Good. Much better. We’ll work on this.” Nyoka said. “I can see you’ve already got the habit of squeezing instead of pulling. That’s good” She turned to Celeste. “Now it’s your turn.”

“What?” Celeste asked, a little shocked.

“I’m not asking you to hit the target. Just get the experience of firing a gun. Recoil is always harsher than people think. You need to know what it’s like, or you’ll be surprised by it.” Nyoka said. She took Celeste’s pistol and popped a clip into it. She carefully handed it back to Celeste.

“She’s not kidding.” Parvati said. “It’s like the Architect themselves grabbed your hand and yanked it. I almost dropped my gun the first time I did it.”

“And that’s just from a junky Spacer’s Choice pistol.” Nyoka said. “The T&L stuff is worse, and Hammersmith will break your arm if you aren’t careful.”

“You’re doing wonders for confidence.” Celeste said, a little shaky. “They always make it look so easy in Dissident Hunter episodes.”

“Again, just plastic.” Nyoka said.

“They may be getting away from that.” Parvati said. “Remember that trip to Odeon Studios?”

“I just think that was them not wanting to have to pay their supporting cast or the extras.” Nyoka said. 

“Do you really think we’ll see the Captain and the others in the serials?” Parvati asked.

“I think you’re trying to stall for yourself and Celeste.” Nyoka said. “Celeste, try to take a shot at Dimitri.”

Celeste stood up to the imaginary line, aimed with the pistol. She took a deep breath, and pulled the trigger.

She was glad for the earplugs, the bang seemed to be twice as loud as the time that Parvati fired the trigger.

Dimitri rocked back and forth a little. Nyoka walked up to him, and pushed a finger into the chest area. A little wiggling about, and she pulled out a small slug. “Good shot, Celeste.” She said. “Anyone who got that would definitely be thinking twice about hurting you.”

“Beginner’s luck.” A new voice said.

Everyone turned to see Ellie and Felix standing there, near the workbench. Felix had a tossball stick with him. Ellie just had a smirk.

“And how good were you when you first shot a gun?” Nyoka said.

“Not very good, but my first case of self defense didn’t use a gun.” Ellie said. “You get someone as close to you as Dimitri is, they aren’t going to pull a gun on you. They’ll have something sharp or pointed, so you’ll be fumbling with your pistol and in the two seconds he’s got to close the distance, that guy’s already stabbed you.”

Parvati looked at Nyoka for confirmation on Ellie’s little speech. Noyka sighed, and nodded her head. “I wasn’t teaching marksmanship or quick draw. There’s a lot of weight when you pull a gun on someone and it looks like you know what you’re doing.”

“It’s why I always keep a decent plasma cutter in my first aid kit. Good for cauterizations, and handy in a pinch if you just need someone to back off.” Ellie said.

“You see it on tossball too.” Felix said. “People start hurling the ball way before anyone gets close in to do a tackle. You’ve got to have a solid fourth back as well. They’re right in the middle soaking up the hits.”

“See, even Felix knows the value of a decent defense that’s more than a gun.” Ellie said.

“What are you two down here for?” Nyoka asked, with a sigh.

“I’m here to practice my drop kick, Ellie said she wanted to watch.” Felix said, with a little pride.  
“The last time he did it he nearly dripped his leg out of its socket.” Ellie said. “I’m here to watch to make sure that doesn’t happen again. And if it does to laugh.”

“That’s just because that outlaw was wearing that huge belt.” Felix said. “My heel got caught. It could have happened to anyone.”

“Sure.” Ellie said. 

“Anyway,” Felix said. “I was planning on using Dimitri, are you guys done with him?”

Nyoka sighed. “Might as well be.” She held out her hand and collected the pistols from Parvati and Celeste. “Good start, Celeste. We can work on it tomorrow if you’d like.”

“Thank you darling. It was an experience.” Celeste said. “I think I’m going back to the Captain’s quarters.”

Everyone watched as Celeste walked away. The women all looked at each other, frowning.

Felix looked at everyone as he adjusted Dimitri into a good tackling position. “Uhh, am I missing something here?”

“It’s getting to her.” Ellie said.

“I honestly thought the lesson might be good for her.” Nyoka said. “Keep her mind focused on other thing. Now I think I’ve just made things that much worse.”

“Do you think she needs someone to talk to?” Parvati said.

“I don’t think she’d be willing to open up and get personal with any of us.” Ellie said. “She sees you as an innocent child, me as Byzantium competition, Nyoka as Monarch savage, Felix as a dumb punk kid…” 

“Hey!” Felix said.

“I have no idea if she’s deep enough into OSI for the Vicar to be any help.” Ellie said. “Even if she was, I have my doubts about the Vicar being helpful anyway. We could ask the Captain, maybe.”

“They do have a way with words.” Nyoka said.

“Or we could do the Byzantium thing and ignore it.” Ellie said, trying not to sound as if she was overly hopeful that they would take that option.

“Ever since she got on board, you’ve been more and more obviously a Byzantium born person.” Nyoka said.

“I know.” Ellie groaned. “It’s just how we’re wired. Get us close together and all that nonsense comes out of you like poison. I hate it.”

“So, we should talk to the Captain?” Parvati said. “Where are they?”

“Catching some rest in the engine room.” Felix said. “Sleeping arrangements have been a little touch, so they tend to stay up until they’re on the verge of passing out, then make for their bed roll. You know, really roughing it.”  
“Well, maybe he should give his room a quick check.” Ellie said.

“We sure do make the Captain do an awful lot of stuff we don’t want to do.” Parvati said.

“It’s the burden of people who are good at doing things, they end up with things to do.” Nyoka said.

“So…who’s going to be the one to wake them up?” Felix said.

“Not it!” “Not it!” “Not it!” “Damn.”  
\- -  
Celeste wasn’t really doing anything in the Captain’s cabin. Other than looking through all the random junk that the Captain had collected over their adventures.

“You only get that glow-in-the-dark poster if you’re employee of the month.” The Captain said to Celeste.

“What does someone have to do to become employee of the month for Sublight Shipping?” Celeste asked.

“Pull a million bit heist. It was a bit of an effort, really. We had to get to Cascadia on Monarch which was totally overrun by every hostile living creature created. Then break into a secret underground lab, complete with mantisaur and automechanical opposition. Then load a amazingly volatile gas onto your ship. Fly half way across the system. Then unload it, and get paid a fraction of what its worth, and then thank your, possibly crazy, boss for the opportunity.” The Captain said. “That was a busy week.”

“Here I thought that an exciting week was when a fashion designer called my latest lines of hats derivative of last month’s style.” Celeste said.

“The others have been very friendly, haven’t they?” The Captain said. “Keeping you busy, and telling stories, and all that, right?”

“Yes. I feel very welcome on the Unreliable. Thank you, Captain.” Celeste said. 

“You’ve been busy as well. You’ve used up nearly every piece of paper that we have on ship.” The Captain said. “You’re drawing all these new designs and schematics for accessories.” He nodded at the small piles of paper on his desk. “I know some people. You want to get rich quick, I could sell them. Split the bits with you. Start a fashion war.”

“Tempting.” Celeste said. “But no. My work is…my work is my life. I would feel wrong if I saw someone else’s name on my designs. After I finished being a pillar of rage.” She looked at the wall of the Captain’s cabin, where the Chimera was hanging. “You still haven’t tried it on.”

“We did the fitting.” The Captain said. “Doesn’t that count?”

“Hardly. Clothes when they are worn properly are seen by more than just the model and the creator. The reaction to the statement is just as vital as the statement itself.”

“Well,” The Captain said. “I was hoping to save it for a special occasion. You don’t wear something like the Chimera, if you’re just performing petty crime, or exterminating raptidons for a handful of bits. The Chimera needs to be worn while…while you’re saving Halcyon, or overthrowing the Board…or both!”

“You don’t have small plans. Do you?” Celeste said.

“Make no little plans, for they have no magic to stir men’s blood.” The Captain said. 

“That sounds like a quote.” Celeste said.

“It is, architect.” The Captain said.

“I thought you weren’t a follower of the Vicar’s faith?” Celeste asked.

“Heh. No. Just A architect, not The Architect. Also, I don’t think the Vicar follows himself these days that much.” They sat on the desk. “Have you gotten much sleep? I hope my bed isn’t proving to be too much of a discomfort.”

“No. The bed is fine. Thank you again Captain. I realize I am an imposition on your ship’s arrangements.” Celeste said.

The Captain waved it off. There was a moment between the two. It was clear that Celeste was holding it in. All the stress, the chaos, the fear, and the shock of the upheaval of her entire life. It was there, boiling under the surface, but she wouldn’t, she couldn’t let it out. It was unseemly, and went against Byzantium manners.

The Captain had spent their formative years working on understanding people. How to get into a person’s head, presumably to help them. What those years achieved was a career stuffed into a hot and sweaty suit with a foam head that even Martin Callahan look upon him with sympathy. Still, they took pride in those years, it wasn’t everyone that could take the traditional 5th Inning sacking by the towel boy. (And on his team the towel boy was the 7’ 2” steroid using nephew of the team owner. Fairly typical for tossball, but on his team the kid _really_ got into it.) There was a legacy to wearing the suit. A character that had existed for years. Children smiled when they saw them in the suit. So, the Captain knew all about pride. Yes, they did.

Thankfully, they knew how to ‘take off the suit,’ when they needed to. Plus, all those years of once thought wasted education now helped them take off the suits of other people.

Metaphorically. Of course.

The Captain felt that the point they were trying to arrive in their mind was getting a little muddled. Thankfully, Celeste was quite easy.

“Everyone’s in their cabin for the cycle. Resting up for Monarch.” The Captain said.

Then they got up, took down the Chimera, and handed it to Celeste. “It really is beautiful.”

Celeste held the suit in her hands. This was what she had destroyed her life over, and it was…it was…just a suit. Just a thing. A stupid…silly…thing.

Tears dripped onto the Chimera. Celeste tossed it aside, and put her head in her hands. The sobs came quickly and muted. Her shoulders shaking.

Without prompting, the Captain replaced the Chimera back on its hook, and sat on the bed next to Celeste. They placed a hand on her shoulder. Celeste instantly folded into the presence next to her. She moved her hand up, but the Captain calmly pushed it back and gave their head a small little shake. Celeste then gripped the Captain’s shoulders tightly, and cried some more. After a while she finished. 

The Captain handed Celeste a handkerchief and gave her a moment to wipe her eyes. They then got up from the bed, and left the room, turning off the light as they went.

Celeste slipped into the first deep sleep she had since the day she had left Byzantium.

The Captain headed to the engine room. It was comfortably warm there, usually, and Nyoka’s bedroll was designed to make a comfortable spot to sleep in the wilds of Monarch. The Unreliable’s engine room was nothing compared to that.

Sleep quietly swept through the Unreliable, as it sailed past the stars.


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Celeste meets Monarch.

Celeste gagged and choked the moment she stepped out onto the Stellar Bay landing platform. Instantly, Nyoka was already prepared with a cloth to cover her mouth. The Captain was then handing the fashion designer a breather mask.

“We got here just in time for the afternoon winds to blow the sulfur fumes over the fisheries. They bring in the haul about then and…” Nyoka shrugged. “Well, I’d claim that you get used to it, but that would be inaccurate.”

“Does the entire planet reek like this?” Celeste said.

“No.” Nyoka said. “There’s some places where it just smells like sulfur, and some places where it just reeks of dead fish. Those places usually have mantisaurs poking around. They’ll eat the heads and guts of the saltuna they drag up from spawning pools, leave the rest of the corpse out in the open to rot so the swarms can nest and pupate in them.”

“Welcome to your new home!” Ellie said.

“Ellie.” The Captain said in a warning tone.

“Sorry.” Ellie said. “Once you get inside a building it gets better. They have air filters and conditioners that keep the stink outside.”

“You need a minute?” The Captain asked.

Celeste nodded. She slowly breathed in the warm air through the rebreather. She wondered where they got it from. It certainly wasn’t something from Spacer’s Choice or any of the other typical vendors. It worked well, so she supposed she shouldn’t complain or ask too many questions.

After a few moments she nodded, and patted the Captain on the shoulder. The group then headed down the elevator and went through the rigorous customs…which consisted of the Captain waving to a man with a clipboard.

At that point, the group split up. Nyoka headed straight for a bar called the Yacht Club. Felix said he was going to check out the tossball OTB. Ellie and the Vicar went off to find their own kind of mischief. Parvati was going to talk to some shipwrights, the few that were still here, to see if she couldn’t get her hands on some new ship parts that the Unreliable could use.

The Captain and Celeste were going to see the people in charge. After all Celeste needed to make a real estate deal, and that was a big premium. It didn’t help that the reason that it was so hard to find a new place to live was partially the Captain’s fault.

So far, judging by what one observed just by walking through the town, things had been going well. It didn’t hurt that most of the Iconoclasts were former workers of Monarch. People seemed very happy to have walls, food, and a paycheck. The fact that MSI was now the one signing the checks was not the biggest change people had experienced in their lives. People adjusted.

Sanjar was apparently doing his job well. There weren’t people starving in the streets, or living on the streets. There were a few less storage spaces, and maybe a few people had to live in quarters that some might called cramped. Although that depended if they ever were employed by Spacer’s Choice or not. In those cases the new housing assignments were almost palatial in their luxury.

Zora had been doing her part as well. People were getting along. No one was trying to be top canid, or any other shows of dominance. No one was giving the Iconoclasts grief about their ‘betrayal,’ and the Iconoclasts weren’t bragging about their period of ‘independence.’ Zora had been keeping her people in line. 

The result was that things were looking good for MSI. Their profit margins were up, staff evaluations were positive, and manager resolutions were always glowing. The Board could ignore a lot of things, even with a BOLT-52 coupled with a solid charge against UDL. However, turning down Monarch meant turning down money. For every Board member that had a personal reason to oppose MSI, there were two or three others who saw that turning away the rogue corporation was leaving money on the table. That was the single greatest cardinal sin any member of Halcyon could commit. Thus MSI was advancing on the Board, albeit very slowly. It still had enemies, and opposition, and was on, now distant, Monarch. They could be ignored, but Sanjar and Zora had been through worse. They had survived Monarch, they could survive the board.

The Captain did notice that UDL hadn’t replaced the downed gunship in the Monarch Blockade. It wasn’t a problem for ADA to get past the blockade, but this time she had remarked that it had only taken her 108250 portions of her run time, when the first time they had landed on Monarch it had taken her at least five times as much. The Captain was a little intrigued by that. Not that they could do much about it. Best to file it down with the other small irregularities, that the Captain now called the ‘Suggestion Box’ file. Soon enough they’d get enough puzzle pieces to figure it out. However, whatever picture it was painting, wasn’t pretty.

Still, right now it meant good fortune for them, so best not to look too hard at it.

The Captain put on their best smile as they approached the Monarch headquarters. They knew how to handle Sanjar, he was an easy touch normally, but now that he had Zora it might be a bit tougher. She wouldn’t be swayed with a sob story. A refugee, no matter how famous, was a refugee. That meant housing, food, and protection. Zora would be sure to bring that up, and once the conversation hit actual numbers, then Sanjar swung back up in force. This was going to be a juggling act. The biggest challenge was making Celeste look as attractive as possible. The Captain just hoped that Sanjar or Zora needed a new suit.

Sanjar and Zora were both there in the front office when the Captain and Celeste came in. They were looking over a map. 

“Ah! Captain!” Sanjar said as the pair entered. “We were just about to announce our need for a troubleshooter, you were the first name on our list.”

“Provided that we can have your help for a reasonable price.” Zora said. “This isn’t an easy task though.

Well, this just became incredibly easy. The Captain thought to themselves. “That’s just perfect, because I am in need of a little assistance myself.” They started to talk.

“Oh no!” Celeste interrupted. “No, this is not happening!”

“Excuse me?” Sanjar asked.

“Who is this?” Zora said.

“Celeste?” The Captain said.

“The airways have been buzzing all about the dire threat of Monarch Industries, how they’ve gone to the furthest of depravity by aligning with the dreaded Iconoclasts, and this…this, is what stands before me?” Celeste gestured to Sanjar. “Three month old suit with…is that drop stitching? No. Oh, no no no. This is just, no. I can’t allow it. I won’t allow it. Captain! I need paper, and a pen.” The fashionista held out her hand.

The Captain was quick, knowing that to break the momentum would doom everything. He instantly snatched up a piece of discarded paper and handed Celeste a pen from Celia’s desk. 

“Thank you. Now, measurements…” Celeste gave Sanjar her finest scan with her eyes. Her nose wrinkling at his suit. “Done. Now…Monoarch’s colors are Royal Blue, with Gold and Vermillion highlights, correct?”

“I believe we changed from vermillion to crimson for a few quarters.” Sanjar said. “We’re currently holding a poll to see if we’re better suited by changing to ruby.”

“Ruby is for eight to ten year old girls who want to look pretty in their first atmo-suit, carmine is the shade of a trailblazer and dominant force on the Board.” Celeste said, still sketching.

“My earlier question stands,” Zora said stepping forward. “Captain, who is this…person?”

The Captain sighed. “Chairman Nandi, Commander Blackwell, may I be honored to present, direct from Byzantium, the one and only Celeste Jolicoeur.”

“What?! THE Celeste Jolicoeur?” Sanjar said. His face went from excited, to full collapse. “And she’s seen me wearing this. Oh, Celia, I didn’t I tell you we needed to update the company wardrobe?”

“We haven’t had the budget to pay Sublight to get us the latest fashion,” The secretary said, not looking up from her desk. “You said that it was a sub priority to getting the anti-venom supplies we needed due to the raptidons taking over that old OSI chapel.”

“The correct decision.” Zora said. “Alright, so…does she have anything to say about me?” She asked, a little defiantly.

Celeste bared Zora, still dressed in her Iconoclast glory, a quick glance. She gave her a wave and went back to her work. “Iconoclast chic. You’re fine. Don’t interrupt me.” 

Zora visibly flared, and she opened her mouth to comment on that curt dismissal. Thankfully the Captain was back on their game at this point.

“Zora,” They started. “You said that you have a big job for us? How big? Also, you know that anything that requires me dealing with a mantiqueen has an additional fee.”

“No. No mantiqueen. At least we don’t think there’s any.” Zora said, her gaze not leaving Celeste. “We’re hoping you can clear out Sulfur Springs. It’s another small colony, good walls, decent area, might get a few wollcows up grazing if the marauders haven’t set them up already.”

“Marauders? Is that the problem?” The Captain asked.

“Yes. They’ve set themselves up in the area.” Zora said. “They send out raiding parties from there, they have their main weapon stash there, not to mention a good supply of all their personal drugs and food. We take out that, we take care of a huge portion of our marauder problem on Monarch.”

“And the ‘but’ that’s incoming?” The Captain asked.

Zora sighed. “It’s a fortress, good walls, heavy supplies, well armed. We don’t have the people or resources available to launch a full assault at it. We do think there’s a way in, though. We’ve found a new system of caves. There’s a chance the caves come right up into Sulfur Springs.”

“A chance. You’re not sure?” The Captain said.

“Well, we had a few people out them, but they ran into raptidons. We were hoping that Nyoka would be able to scout them for us when she returned.” Zora said.

“You do know that Nyoka now is part of my crew, correct? This is getting to be a multi-part job. Do you have a back-up plan, just in case this cave plan doesn’t pan out?” The Captain asked. 

“We were thinking about talking to Fallbrook.” Zora said. “There are rumors that they’re supplying Sulfur Springs with certain amenities.”

“Is Cathrine still in charge?” The Captain sighed.

“Yes.” Zora said.

“Do I have to keep standing like this?” Sanjar interrupted.

“Sssh!” Celeste said. She was on her third piece of paper. 

“Fallbrook is supplying Sulfur Springs. Drugs without a doubt, probably ammo as well.” The Captain shook their head. “I think I’ll pay Malin a visit. See if I can’t negotiate something that could give us an edge.”

“Like?” Zora said.

“I think the less you know about that the better.” The Captain said. “Alright, so…Caves, Fallbrook, anything else?”

“We were thinking about the possibility of someone sneaking inside.” Zora said. “Some of the Iconoclasts were former marauders, and they still have their outfits and know the passcodes to the entry gates. There’s even an old marauder war wagon we’ve got that still moves.”

“Where they have all the main guns, automechanicals, and unfriendly and suspicious guards that are hopped up on marauder drugs?” The Captain grinned. “Yes, I’m familiar with that kind of plan.” They nodded. “Okay, I’m in.”

“For what part of it?” Zora asked.

“All of it.” The Captain said.

Parvati sighed. “Of course. This includes all of us, Captain?”

“Yep. You are going to get that war wagon up and working…with a few surprises that we’ll talk about later.” The Captain said. “Nyoka, Felix, the Vicar, and SAM are going to check the caves out, and while they’re doing that. Ellie and I are going to Fallbrook take care of her thing, and to talk to Catherine and negotiate some things.” 

“That’s a lot.” Parvati said.

“It’s just the opener.” The Captain said. “Cause after that, we’re going to clear out Sulfur Springs.”

“Of course we are.” Parvati said. “Can…can I get to drive the War Wagon?”

“I think you’ll have to fight Felix for that privilege.” The Captain said. “Now, as for compensation for all this work. That’s going to cost you some bits right out front. That’s to get the War Wagon working and set up, and to allow ‘negotiations’ between Stellar Bay and Fallbrook. I think about 2000 should do it.”

Zora and Sanjar both made a face. “Captain, that is quite a lot, and our fiscal quarter hasn’t closed yet. We’re still having to compensate for our latest fee we had to pay the Board to even allow-“

“Catherine won’t look at anything less than 1000, it’s that or we give her more control here. Tell me I’m wrong, that you know Malin to be cheaper than that.” The Captain said.

Zora and Sanjar looked at each other and then they nodded. “1000 for Fallbrook. Fine. However, I doubt you need 1000 bits to get the material to get a vehicle that currently runs just fine, to ‘marauder’ condition.” Sanjar said.

“Parvati?” The Captain asked.

“Gee. Let me think, even if it’s running, I’d need to check the motor, make sure the armor’s still solid, and ensure the hydraulics are fine, not to mention…” Parvati went into a long string of mechanical technical talk, but to the Captain she lifted her hand to her cheek absentmindedly and dragged four fingers down her cheek. The others in the room didn’t notice, but the Captain caught the signal. It was the same one Parvati’s father had taught her when they were making estimates back in Edgewater.

Of course, the Captain wouldn’t be the Captain of the Unreliable if they couldn’t squeeze a little bit more than they needed. They held up five fingers. “500. Minimum. And that’s just for materials. I’m being nice and not charging you for Miss Holcombe’s expertise and labor.

“Now, about the compensation after we secure Sulfur Springs for you.” The Captain said.

“Well, we were considering a reward of 2500 bits, but since you’re already using over half of that just for preparation, that leaves us with just a grand.” Zora said.

“And that’s perfectly acceptable,” Said the Captain. “With the addition of a small rider.”

“A rider?” Zora asked.

“Miss Jolicoeur has decided to relocate to Monarch for the foreseeable future.” The Captain said. “We’d like it if she was provided housing. Amenities, furniture, all the other minor details can be dealt with using Celeste’s own funds. Rent can be negotiated as well.”

Zora sighed. “And I assume Miss Jolicoeur doesn’t with to share lodging, unlike 90% of Stellar Bay?” They asked.

“She’s an artist.” The Captain said.

“Fine.” Zora said. “Once we have Sulfur Springs, we’ll be able to expand anyway. However, I hope she expects that accommodations here won’t be the same as she might find in Byzantium.”

“She is aware. That’s fine. As long as it’s not infested with sprats and covered with droppings.” The Captain said.

Zora sighed, indicating that even that level of comfort might be a bit on the ‘picky’ side. However, she wasn’t in a position to turn down the Captain, and their crew’s, assistance. They were pricey, but you got what you paid for.

“Celeste,” The Captain kindly asked. “Are you done?”

Celeste made one last stroke on the fifth piece of paper she had commandeered. She looked up at the Captain and nodded. “Yes. Oh there’s so much to do. Anyway, thank you dear, you’ve been wonderful.” She said to Sanjar. “Now, I need a fabricator. I need to get some mock ups, and tests. I have five different visions, and I need to see which one is the truth!”

“Well, before that, let’s get you a roof and a bed.” The Captain said. 

“Yes, yes.” Celeste said, waving her hands absentmindedly, as if those things were mere distractions. “Before that, I need to know, what is the most advanced fabricator that you have here at Stellar Bay?”

“I think we have a Collattel.” Sanjar said. “We use it for our jumpsuits, and the inner linings of our MSI brand corporate armor.”

“A Collattel?” Celeste gasped. “You must be joking. I could get further work done by using my actual hands!”

“Amber Heights has a Katskill that we used for our uniforms.” Zora said, gesturing to her own dress. “It’s a bit jury rigged, but it still worked when we were last there.”  
“Is it still at Amber Heights?” The Captain asked.

“It was a fabricator. It wasn’t too high on our priorities to move.” Zora said.

“I can work quite well with a Katskill.” Celeste said, looking at the Captain expectantly.

The Captain sighed. “I’ll hire some flunkies out of Fallbrook. We’ll get it back here as promptly as we’re able to.”

“Excellent.” Celeste said. She turned to Sanjar. “When I’m ready, I’ll come by with the prototypes for the initial fittings. I think you have the shoulders for the full breasted power suit, but I’m certain you have the slim lines for a sheer cut of my own personal design. I’m thinking of calling it, ‘Monarch Demand.’ You’ll look fabulous.”

“Well, Miss Jolicoeur, you flatter me.” Sanjar said.

“Nonsense. You’re the leader of the revolution class, the daring commander of the bleeding edge of Halcyon. You MUST look the part, or else what is the point of this uprising at all? Style counts for so very much.”

“Inspiring!” Sanjar said. “Celia, were you writing that down?”

“Every word, sir.” The secretary said. “Would you like that on our latest flyer? The Bleeding Edge of Halcyon Style?”

“Yes!” Sanjar said. “And be sure that it includes a picture of me in my new suit…when Miss Jolicoeur is ready with it.”

“I’ll start as soon as I have my fabricator.” Celeste said. “In the meantime, it has been a long journey, and I’d dearly like a moment to lie down and gather myself.”

“Of course, of course!” Sanjar said. “Stellar Bay is honored to be your…second residence. We’ll find you a place to stay immediately. I think you’d like something a bit less downwind, correct?”

Zora sighed and shook her head. The Captain gave her a shrug. You could humble a man quite a bit, but at their soul executives were still executives. Sanjar was better than most, but there was that small streak of imperiousness in him. If anyone was going to play with it, have it be Celeste who was, in the Captain’s opinion, the best of Byzantium.

“What’s this?” Celia asked, as Celeste handed her a long list. 

“Fabrics, thread, dyes, and a few other assorted materials.” Celeste said. “I’ll need them ready when the fabricator gets here, so I can start work right away.”

Celia’s eyes bugged out. “This is nearly all we have, and half of this stuff is…I don’t think they make most of this.”

“Of course they don’t. That’s why Monarch Demand will be singular, special, and unavailable to any in Byzantium. You’ll cause a riot.” Celeste said.

The Captain leaned over and took a look at the list. “Actually, Celia…I think you DO have some of these materials.”

“What?” Celia asked.

“Yeah, musk glands, carapaces, raptidon hides. This is all stuff you’ve bought from Sebastian.” The Captain said.

“Really?” Celia asked.

“Yeah. Heck, have him swing by Celeste’s as soon as he can.” The Captain said. “He could actually make a tidy profit.”

“Well, he’ll appreciate that.” Celia said. “I suppose this will…encourage him to expand his inventory, since he’s about to get a new…regular buyer.” It was clear that getting her apartment back to a regular (for Monarch) smelling domicile. 

“Sorry, Celia.” The Captain said. “Anyway, I have some insurance fraud to commit, and a fabricator to collect. Come on, Parvati. The sooner we get all the pieces together, the sooner we get paid.”

“Got it.” Parvati said. “But, us…what about Miss Jolicoeur?”

“Umm, Sanjar?” The Captain said.

“Of course, of course. Celia?” Sanjar said.

“Right away, sir.” The secretary said.

“Great. Well, I’ll send you a message when we get the better fabricator.” The Captain said. “Welcome to Stellar Bay, Celeste. I’m sure you’ll be running the place in a week.”  
\- -  
It took two days for the Captain and their crew to finish their work in Fallbrook. (Which only required the Captain to threaten to shoot one person.) Then to get over to Amber Heights, clear out the sprat infestation of the now abandoned township, and secure the fabricator. Hauling it over was another trial, but thankfully that was one of those problems that if you threw enough bits at it, it would solve itself.

Celeste had been set up in a small house. It had once been used for housing spare machinery, but Sanjar had converted it quite well. It gave Celeste a spacious bedroom, and a lovely large area for her to have her workshop in. When the Captain arrived with their delivery, there were already hosts of papers pinned to the walls, and even a few test suits.

“Decided to bite the bullet and work with the Collattel?” The Captain asked.

“Sometimes, you need to see a piece of work in the flesh, larval form or not.” Celeste said. “It helps me ensure that when I work with proper materials, I know what I’m going to end up seeing. Surprises are sometimes welcome, usually they’re just…surprising. Anyway, darling, so good to see you. I trust you’re back with good news?”

“Yep. Bring it in Felix!” The Captain cried.

With a grunt, Felix was pushing in a large box on a hover dolly.

“One Katskill fabricator. In working condition. You may want to run a diagnostic before you start creating seriously with it.” The Captain said. 

“Excellent, just set it down there, dear.” Celeste said.

“Sure.” Felix said. “This is exactly why I joined up with the boss. Hauling boxes. Not like I haven’t done this for the majority of my life already. See Halcyon, fight the corporate overlords, haul boxes.”

“Hush, you.” The Captain said. “You just complained enough when I sent you into the sulfur caves with Nyoka and the Vicar.”

“Well, that wasn’t what I signed up for either.” Felix said, as he packed the fabricator. “Shooting mantiqueens in smelly darkness, getting covered in reeking guts. We should be storming the walls of Byzantium trying to get more chemicals for Ph-“

“Felix!” The Captain snapped. “Remember that talk we had?”

“Oh, right. Sorry.” Felix said. “But Celeste’s one of the good ones.”

“It’s called operational security, Millstone.” The Captain sighed. “Look, you want to see combat? How about you pair up with Parvati on the war wagon team. We need someone with…special survival sense to drive that thing.”

“Seriously?” Felix asked.

“Yes. Parvati drives too carefully, and everyone else will try and avoid things that get in the way. We need someone who can drive like a marauder. I think you’re just the person for the job.” The Captain said.

“Oh man, thanks Boss! I’ll go talk to Parvati right now!” Felix said, taking off.

The Captain sighed as they watched their crew member go. “Sometimes it’s like herding cats…does anyone still have cats?”

“There’s a type of animal known as a Felixdie.” Celeste said. “They were all the rage in Byzantium a few seasons ago. They were quite friendly, and were excellent at hunting sprats.”

“What happened that turned them out of fashion?” The Captain asked.

“They turned out to get rather big, along with their claws. They’re still terribly sweet, but…if you had any kind of furniture, it would end up shredded to bits. Also, they were rather smelly to clean up afterwards.” Celeste said. “People would have to buy bigger and bigger litter boxes, until an entire room was dedicated to their…mess.”

“And far be it from a Byzantium to take up any sort of effort or inconvenience.” The Captain said. “Anyway, enough about that. How are you doing? Is this place suitable for your needs? Have you gotten used to the smell?”

“The smell of Monarch, and Stellar Bay, is rather…singular.” Celeste said. “I can walk around now and again, without needed that breather mask you gave me. However it’s still a bit of a trial.”

“Sorry about that.” The Captain said.

“Hardly something that you can do something about, darling.” Celeste said. “As for my residence, it’s a little…more functional than my old residency back on Byzantium, but I can manage.”

“Good.” The Captain said. “Do you need to adjust where the fabricator is, or did Felix set it up alright?”

“This is fine.” Celeste said.

“Good. Everyone’s gossiping about ‘Monarch Demand’ you know.” The Captain said. “When Sanjar gets his suit, you’ll probably have a line around the block of people asking for their own version.”

“That’s how it should be, darling.” Celeste said.

“Alright,” The Captain said. “I’ll leave you to it. I have a fortress town to siege.”

“I never thanked you, did I?” Celeste said.

“For what?” The Captain said.

“Saving my life.” Celeste said, her fingers absentmindedly poking at the fabricator’s control screen.

“That was Parvati. I think you thanked her enough with that dress. What did she say Junlei said again, ‘enchanted by the elegance.’ Honestly, she acts like all her holidays came at once.” The Captain said.

“Yes, I know. However, I know that you were the one who deftly handled the guards, and came up with the idea of me staying here. I’d…just be another dissident on the run without you.” Celeste said.

“You made the Chimera. Celeste Jolicoeur’s seminal work. Her last blaze in Byzantium.” The Captain said. “I’d say that makes us more than even. Besides, I’ve decided that the world is a little bit more interesting with you in it, Celeste. You give it style.”

“Thank you, Captain.” Celeste said. “You better promise me that when you do decide to wear the Chimera it’s for something that gets you plastered all over Halcyon. I want to see my work pay off, if its caused me this much trouble.”

“That I can promise you, Celeste.” The Captain said. “Now, I’ll leave you to your work. I have to go make sure my crew doesn’t get shot up while we’re doing the latest insane plan that we cooked up.”

Celeste waved the Captain away, and bent over the fabricator, checking the pin and needle set ups, ensuring that they were aligned properly. This was a second hand machine, and you always heard horror stories about what happened to people who bought refurbished items. ‘Monarch Demand’ was going to be her latest maximum opus, she would leave nothing to chance.  
\- -  
Celeste was nearly finished with the first set of ‘Monarch Demand’ when the Captain, their crew, and the handful of MSI and Iconoclast soldiers returned from Sulfur Springs. She was taking a break in the charming cantina known as the ‘Yacht Club.’ She was still a relative stranger to the town, so people mostly left her alone. So she was nursing a purpleberry cordial, and idly sketching a few rogue ideas when people staggered into the bar. Some of them still smoking or bleeding from combat.

“Wow.” The bartender, who’s name Celeste hadn’t gotten yet, stared at the trio of combatants, and instantly pulled out glasses and a bottle of Zero-Gee. “You look like you’ve been through it.”

“We got it easy.” One of the men said, as he took his glass of brew and downed it. “Kyber bit it. Took a bullet right in the throat.”

“Damn.” The bartender said. “He was a tough one. Damn shame.”

“Tough but stupid.” A second man said. “That freebooter and their crew were mopping up the marauders and drawing fire, and what does he do? Run right up ahead of them into the crossfire.”

“Damn idiot was always too eager to ‘get his score.’ Always treated gun play like it was some kind of fool competition.” The third man said.

“Stupid or not.” The first one said. “He was one of us. No one deserves to get pegged like that by some punk kid marauder hopped up on adreno-time.” He raised his, now refilled, glass. “To Kyber.”

“To Kyber.” The two other men raised their glasses, and all three downed their drinks.

“Excuse me.” Celeste said, approaching the men. “But you’re part of the Sulfur Springs raid, yes?”

“Yeah. That was us.” One of the men said.

“Did it go well?” Celeste asked.

The man nodded. “Yeah. Sulfur Springs is ours again, for now. Hopefully that means fewer marauder raids from now on. You’re welcome.”

“I’m sorry to hear about your friend.” Celeste said. “Was anyone else hurt?”

“No, and I wouldn’t call Kyber a friend, exactly.” The man said. “Everyone took a shot or two, nothing adreno couldn’t fix. That freebooter got right into it. They were unreal.”

“The freebooter? You mean the Captain of the Unreliable?” Celeste said.

“That the name of the ship? Yeah. Them. They came out like a pack of hounds, crashing through the gate with that war wagon of theirs, then Nyoka herself comes out spraying her machine gun forcing everyone to grab cover. Then out comes that Captain, and with just a pistol goes pop, pop, pop. Three marauders down with headshots. Never seen anyone move so quickly and surely.” The storyteller said. “Do you know them?”

“Only professionally.” Celeste said. “So, are all three of you MSI troopers?”

“We are,” Said the man. “Neru there was one of us, then he joined up with the Iconoclasts for a bit, being a gun hand for them. Now however, we’re all back together.” He shrugged. “As long as we’re not shooting at each other, I call it good.”

“Well, good luck to all of you.” Celeste said. “And I’m sorry again about your comrade in arms.” She got up to leave.

“Hey, hang on.” The one called Neru said. “You’re that new arrival right? The clothes woman, from Byzantium.”

“Yes. That would be me.” Celeste said, turning to look at the man, still wearing Iconoclast armor. “Celeste Jolicoeur. Monarch’s newest premier tailor.”

“Already moved in, huh?” Neru said. “I heard you were chased out of Byzantium.”

“Neru,” One of the other men said. “Drop it.”

“Nah, nah. I want to hear this.” Neru said, looking dead on at Celeste. “I want to know what you have to do in Byzantium that’s so bad that it makes a person come to live on Monarch of all places.” He took a drink of his Zero-Gee. “Gotta be something pretty impressive.”

Celeste sighed. Ellie and Nyokka had warned her about people like this. Back in Byzantium no one would think about being so upfront about things. It was the worst thing possible: openly rude. The women of the Unreliable had advised that Celeste be unafraid of people like that. If they sensed weakness they’d just press on harder and harder. Press back, and they usually backed down.

“I made a suit.” Celeste said.

“A suit?” Neru said. “That’s it?”

“It was a magnificent suit. A suit that will set the fashion palate of Byzantium ablaze once everyone sees it. And they will. The Captain of the Unreliable told me that they would be wearing my suit when they overthrow the Board itself.” Celeste said.

Neru scoffed a little, but his face was smiling. “Must be some suit. Maybe I’ll come by your place and get you to make one of them for me.”

Celeste couldn’t help it. You didn’t grow up in Byzantium without allowing the chance to verbally spit out acid at someone just pass you by. “Of course. I’d be happy to serve you. I have other suits, I’d just have to let out the mid-section a bit. That’s no trouble at all.”

Neru blinked, and then frowned. Apparently the former Iconoclast was quick enough on the uptake to get that he was being insulted. Thankfully, so were his comrades, and they thought it was funny. 

“Heh, you’ll have to get a whole new sheet of fabric for this guy!” One of the men chortled as he slapped Neru on his back. “There’s a reason we call this guy ‘the Wall.’ He’s built like a whole barricade!”

The other man laughed, and Neru, smart as he was, decided that it was better to be in good humor than ruin the party. Also, thankfully, it seems that he wasn’t that overly sensitive about his weight. “Better a wall than a chicken.” He said to his compainion. “How long were you hiding behind that war wagon?”

The group of soldiers then went into an assortment of good-natured insults, and light hearted bragging about their recent exploits. Celeste took that moment to exit the bar, and make her way back to her new residence.  
The fabricator had been busy while she had been gone. Celeste look at her work, with the usual critical eye. She had certainly been relearning skills that she thought she had already mastered. Changing fabricator brands, using different materials than the finest available, and finally actually working with a *shudder* budget. It was a far cry from the easy days in Byzantium.

The first version of ‘Monarch Demand’ had been fed right back into the fabricator. The special materials had worked perfectly, but the second rate synth-silk had completely clashed and the look was ruined. More adjustments were needed, and more care was taken with the project. The next version had been acceptable, but only as a proof of concept. There was so much more work that needed to be done.

Celeste remembered how she remarked one in Byzantium about how things had become so stale for her. That all that changed were the measurements, as people came in looking for the same type of clothes everybody else had. There was no room for innovation, no place for improvisation, no challenge! Well, now she was getting all the challenge she could possibly want. She was not totally sure if this was one of those ‘be careful what you wish for’ scenarios or not.

Still, she looked at the finished product. The colors were good, and didn’t clash. The red, a proper shade of carmine, popped out quite well and stole the eye’s attention. She had almost gone with burgundy as an experiment, but had decided better on it. Her first impulses were usually correct when it came to color. The cut was perfect, the lines focusing the gaze properly to the right sight lines. The special ingredients she had worked in even gave the suit a special sheen to it, making the fabric look like something that wasn’t quite fabric but not quite synthetic. It spoke of cool style, and powerful inner vision. Once the Board saw someone wearing this, they’d be falling over themselves to get their own version of it. Celeste Jolicouer still had it. 

Now she needed to give this to Sanjar and see how it hung on him. The man was a dear, but some people needed a little…help…to wear a suit properly. After that, she’d have to start to work on a suit for Zora. Iconoclast armor was unique and quite chic, but if she wanted to be a leader of Monarch, and not just her cabal of dissidents, she needed something special. Celeste was already making a list of items in her head that she would like to experiment with in order to make her next item in her ‘Monarch Demand’ collection.

She put Sanjar’s suit in a garment bag, and headed out towards the Monarch Headquarters.

“Oh, Miss Jolicouer.” Celia said, when the artist entered the building. “Welcome, can I get you anything? Water? Coffee? Mini-air freshener?”

Celeste smoothed out her face. She knew that last bit wasn’t meant to be a jab, but it still made her feel like an unwanted guest. Although, she really couldn’t help it, there had been a breeze on her way in, giving her a face full of sulfur gas and it obviously plainly showed on her face. New home or not, Celeste wasn’t sure if she was ever going to get used to dealing with that.

“No. No need for any of that, darling.” Celeste said. “I’ve just finished the first, central, piece of Monarch Demand, and I’m here for the fitting. Where is Sanjar?”

“He’s going over the paperwork that came up due to our negotiations with Fallbrook over Sulfur Springs.” Celia said.

“Negotiations?” Celeste asked.  
“Well, Fallbrook was in agreements with Sulfur Springs. In order for us to secure their assistance in the assault, we were expected to continue those agreements. To a degree.” Celia said. “The Captain of the Unreliable was able to get us to be able to at least renegotiate the terms. The rest Miss Blackwell and Mr. Nandi are able to handle themselves.”

“Well, inform Mr. Nandi that I am here and I have his suit. The first piece of my new ‘Monarch Demand’ collection.” Celeste said.

“Oh that’s excellent!” Celia said. “He’s been looking forward to it.”

“He should be.” Celeste said. “I’m about to make him the best dressed man in Halcyon. I think only the Chimera surpasses this.” She frowned as she looked at the garment bag.

“What’s wrong?” Celia asked.

“I’m lacking a good name for this piece. Normally, I don’t make my clothing lines as piecemeal as this. I finish the entire run, then I name everything, and then release. This bit of doing it one piece at a time is atypical of me.” She sighed. “This is due to me being all out of sorts. Dealing with materials that are…unconventional or subpar. A refurbished fabricator. An entirely new studio. No, it’s a miracle that this suit was capable of being produced. That it’s Celeste Jolicouer standard is a miracle in itself.”

“Well, we appreciate your efforts. I’m sure.” Celia said. “The fact that you’re willing to…add to Mr. Nandi’s couture is very generous.”

“As I said before. That was not an act of generosity or charity, but a necessity. You have all been going too far with too little.” Celeste said. She gave Celia a critical eye. She just shook her head and sighed. This place was in need of more help than just she could provide. At least there wouldn’t be any shortage of patrons. “Also, are you the person I need to talk to for compensation?”

“Compensation?” Celia asked.

“Of course.” Celeste said. “I’m not running a charity, dear. I do expect to receive payment for my labor.”

Celia sighed, and reached for a new set of forms. “And how much will ‘Monarch Demand’ demand of Monarch?”

“Well, you were kind enough to provide me with housing, and materials. I understood that you personally were responsible for most of the unique items.”

“That wasn’t anything.” Celia said. “I was just glad to get that stuff out of my house, I can move around it without brushing up against something that quivered when you touched it. How you can work with stuff like that is a mystery to me.”

“Secret of the craft.” Celeste said. “Anyway, I suppose I can be reasonable about my labor, so…500 bits per day of work, four days of work, comes to an even 2000 bits. That sounds acceptable.”

“2000 bits?” Celia said. “That’s…not a small amount.”

“I’ll have you know, that a standard Jolicouer dress in Byzantium costs easily 7000, up to 9000 bits!” Celeste said. “That I’m releasing my latest, newest, finest line of clothing to you for a pittance like that is…near charity!”

“Well, this isn’t Byzantium,” Celia said. “And Mr. Nandi has to think of the budget before he thinks of his own gratification.”

“Celia?” Sanjar said, coming out of the office. “Something going on? Oh, hello Miss Jolicouer! How may we help you today?”

“I have finished the first part of the Monarch Demand collection.” Celeste said. She thrust the garment bag into Sanjar’s arms. He took it, still a little confused. “Now, go and put it on, and change your life.”

“This is so…oh my…a Celeste Jolicouer original! I’m so excited!” Sanjar said.

“There’s the matter of the fee, sir.” Celia said.

“Oh.” Sanjar deflated a little. “Of course. I remember how the chairman bragged about your latest suit costing him nearly 15,000 bits. This must be comparable. Correct?”

“That? Pfft. Last month’s cut with a new color fabric. No, my charge for my time and effort comes to 2000 bits. A bit of a steal, but I feel it would be gauche of me to charge for materials you collected, or to spit in the face of your generosity.”

“2000? Oh that’s fine, Celia please deduct that from my paycheck. I’ll be fronting the bill for Miss Jolicouer’s work.” Sanjar said.

“Of course, sir.” Celia said, and started tapping buttons on her data pad.

“Good, now that the minor details have been cleared up, go get changed!” Celeste said. “I must see my art in its display!”

“Oh my, I’m so excited. It’s like winter bonus time!” Sanjar said as he headed into the company bathroom to change into the first suit of Monarch Demand.

After a few moments, hesitantly, Sanjar came out, wearing the blue suit. “Well, how does it look? I thought it looked fine in the mirror.”

“Sir!” Celia said, astonished. 

Celeste had done it again. The suit spoke of power and wealth. It also held a strong slash of rugged individualism. These were the clothing of not just a boardroom titan, but a person who could surge across the lawless fields of Monarch and not only demand your FULLER-23s forms, but also the K909s as well. Completing both of them in the same day, and possessing enough time to get into a wrestling match with a raptidon. Anyone who wore the suit of Monarch Demand was a winner, and not just because they were rich, but because they MADE themselves rich. It didn’t quite beat out the Chimera, but it was damn close. 

Celeste hated it.

“Oh no no no.” Celeste sighed. “You’re not…oh, I need the Captain here. Well, maybe…yes Celia you’ll do. Stand next to Mr. Nandi. I need to use you as an example.”

“Why? What’s wrong?” Sanjar asked. 

“You’re just letting the clothes hang off you!” Celeste said. “You’re not _wearing_ them. Monarch Demand can do many things, but they’re like a…hammer…or a stapler. They must be used properly, or else you only get a fraction of their effect.”

“There’s a right way to wear clothes?” Sanjar asked.

“Of course! Look at your assistant!” Celeste said.

“Me?” Celia asked.

“Of course. Look at her shoulders, look at how she places the hem of her skirt. How she stands in her shoes.” Celeste said. “She expresses herself! Here is confidence, here is professionalism. When you look at her, you think, here is a woman I can trust will all my day to day. She is a rock, and an efficient warrior of paperwork. She is an executive assistant, and understands what that means.”

“Oh.” Celia blushed. “Well, thank you, Miss Jolicouer. I try to look like I know what I’m doing.”

“See? There’s that sense of strive, that confidence. A sense that a person owns the clothes they wear because they’re more than just a way to not be naked or to stay warm in cold weather. If that were the case we’d be wearing nothing but heavy burlap sacks and…ughhh…denim.” Celeste said with a shudder. “You can walk around wearing Monarch Demand and act as if it’s just another suit like any other you could have worn that day. That suit demands…” Celeste sighed and put a finger to her lip. “I’m sorry, darling. I should have asked. You’ve never done modeling, or had any inclination to do so, correct?”

“No.” Sanjar said.

“And when they had competitions, you always took pride at being number 4 or 6 out of 10. Correct? It was enough that you placed. Yes?” Celeste asked.

“It was out of 20 actually.” Sanjar said. His voice was starting to take that tone it got when people started asking questions about his performance reviews pre his ascension to the top of Monarch Industries.

Celeste clicked her tongue. “Well, some people are born with it. Some aren’t.” She clapped her hand. “But I am Celeste Jolicouer, and I refuse to be defeated by the small details. I’ll make you into a proper model of Monarch Demand. I’ve dealt with far worse, and at least I’m not fighting an ego. It’s much harder convincing someone who believes they’re a model when they are NOT. I can do it the other way. Fabric into art. You’ll be fantastic in no time.”

“Thank you?” Sanjar said. He still wasn’t sure if he should feel as if he should be insulted or not.

“Don’t mention it darling. Now, first and foremost…confidence. You must know in your soul that you are meant to wear these clothes. That you are the only person in the world who is allowed to wear these clothes. That you are one of the chosen few, and the world should reward you for it. What gives you that sense of power? Where are you the most confident in your sense of self. Where are you when you are 120%?” Celeste said.

“I’m…not exactly sure. I feel in control when I’m dictating the most current direction of Monarch Industries.” Sanjar said. 

“No no.” Celeste said. “That’s just you being calm, and in a comfort zone. It has nothing to do with being confident. What gives you power? Where are you not only comfortable but in control as well?”

“Think about when you’re picking fonts, sir.” Celia said. “You’ve just received a satisfactory report and are preparing it for presentation.”

Sanjar took a breath and closed his eyes. His shoulders adjusted slightly and his face relaxed slightly.

“Yes! Now, that’s much better. Now, go into that feeling. Feel how your body is responding and lean into it. That’s how you want to be when you’re wearing Monarch Demand.” Celeste said.

“It really does seem to make a difference sir.” Celia said. “The clothing is impressive, but when you relax and set yourself into confident mode, you appear much more…more.”

Celeste nodded, very satisfied. “It just takes a little effort. This is good. We can work on this. This just the beginning.”

“I feel very excited.” Sanjar said. “Although, I have to admit. I’ve never had training where we were taught how to wear clothes properly.”

“You didn’t have at least ‘Tie-tying 101 The Double Winsor and You’? Celeste asked. “I thought that was standard education for everyone during assessment training.” 

“Oh, that’s the one with the funny cartoon and song. How did it go? ‘Cross-and-loop and you’ll see, it’s the nicest way to formally be.’ Or something like that.” Celia said.

“Yes, that’s the one.” Celeste said.

“That course was an elective.” Sanjar said. “Or at least it used to be when I was assessed. I chose ‘Formatting 101.’ I wanted to make sure I was always presenting my work in the optimum manner.” He blushed. “I may have also had a crush on the teacher.”

“Well, now you’ll have to learn how to present yourself in the optimum manner.” Celeste said. “Don’t worry, Darling. We’ll work on it, a little each day, until you’re the pinnacle of high fashion. Monarch Demand will carry upon your shoulders to the heights of corporate style.”

“Well, thank you Miss Jolicouer.” Sanjar said. “I feel that much more fashionable being in your hands.”

“Alright.” Celeste said. “I have to go back to my atelier, the rest of Monarch Demand won’t just create itself. When tomorrow shall we meet again for further modeling coaching?”

“Well, let’s see. Celia? When am I free?” Sanjar asked.

“You’re rather booked tomorrow, but if you like you can send Zora to oversee the fishery inspection in your place. That would free up some time.” Celia said. “Around 4 pm.”

“4 pm will be lovely.” Celeste said. “We’ll make a date of it.”

Celeste made her way home after that. She felt alright calling it home, or at least it would be her ‘Monarch Home’ and once this unpleasantness was over, she’d be happy to take respites here. Stretch out her mind, and get away from the stifling atmosphere of Byzantium. True there were…aspects…of this life that were less than optimum. However, one got quickly accustomed to the smell of sulfur. A blaze of inspiration hit her mind suddenly: custom breathing filters. Different styles, different colors, taking that hated enemy of ‘functional’ and turning it on it’s head. Oh, marvelous. She needed to start taking down notes immediately. This was why she needed to come to Monarch, stretch out her mind and let the inspiration of the universe fill her.

It was the only way to live.


End file.
